


I Don't Want To Be Sick

by Sev1970 (mk_malfoy)



Series: I Don't Want To Be Sick Series [1]
Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Angst, M/M, past character deaths
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-02-17
Updated: 2007-02-17
Packaged: 2017-10-04 05:05:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 37,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mk_malfoy/pseuds/Sev1970
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fic written for littleroo27 who is feeling under the weather. She requested the following: Will someone write me some Sick!Harry fic? Preferably with Snape or Ron as the slightly unwilling, yet loving, caregiver? *whimper* *puppy dog eyes*</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Don't Want To Be Sick

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Littleroo27](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Littleroo27/gifts).



**Title**: I Don't Want To Be Sick  
**Author**: Sev1970  
**Characters**: HP/RW  
**Rated**: NC-17  
**Words**: 37,100  
**Date began**: 02-17-07

**Date finished**: 03-24-07  
**Warnings**: angst, depression, mentions of past character deaths, violence, frottage, oral sex, rimming, foreign object penetration, fisting, masturbation, and language

**Disclaimer**: None of this is mine -- JK Rowling, Bloomsbury, Scholastic, Warner Bros. Inc., and any other entities involved own it all.  
**A/N**: Fic written for [**littleroo27**](http://littleroo27.livejournal.com/) who is feeling under the weather. She requested the following: _Will someone write me some Sick!Harry fic? Preferably with Snape or Ron as the slightly unwilling, yet loving, caregiver? *whimper* *puppy dog eyes*_

 

Hopefully this will make you feel a bit better…drink plenty of liquids!

~*~

Harry sneezed as he climbed into his bed and pulled the duvet up as far as it would go after blowing his nose for the hundredth time. He felt horrible, and it was freezing; it felt as if there had been a blizzard within Hogwarts. If his head wasn't pounding as it was, perhaps he'd make his way down to the common room and start a fire, but he'd be lucky to make it to the door, so he resigned himself to suffer in silence…well as silent as one could be while sneezing repeatedly.

After tossing and turning for at least half an hour, Harry threw the duvet off and kicked his legs a couple of times as he thrashed back and forth. He wasn't sure what that would accomplish, but he felt like someone needed to know he was miserable. Being sick was no fun!

Some time later, Harry heard something approach his bed, and as much as he wanted to see what or who it was, he had finally managed to stop sneezing and didn't want to open his eyes for fear of any movement causing his blissful respite to cease.

"Who is it?" he managed to whisper.

"You sound awful."

"You think? We shouldn't have stayed in Hogsmeade so long, I guess." Harry felt as the bed dipped, and then as a warm hand settled on his forehead; the contact was wonderful.

"You're burning up. You should go see Madam Pomfrey."

"I don't want to move," Harry whined. "It hurts."

Ron rolled his eyes as he pulled the duvet back and rubbed Harry's chest. "You were the one who insisted on playing in the snow."

Harry cracked open an eye. "Shut up, Ron."

Ron retrieved his wand and within a few seconds had a potion in his hand. "Here, drink this; it'll help."

Harry forced open both eyes and quickly shut them again, even though there was hardly any light in the room.

Ron propped up Harry's head with his right hand and helped him down the potion. "Scoot over. You know you can't sleep when you're sick, and I need sleep."

Harry scooted over and wrapped his arms around Ron as his warm bedmate pulled up the duvet over the both of them. "You're too good to me, Ron."

"Yeah, well, don't forget that when it is me whining in a few nights."

~*~

Ron opened his eyes and turned his head when he heard his bed-mate stir and begin sneezing. From the look of Harry's red nose and puffy eyes, ones that were currently looking at him with a pathetic expression, it was evident that the cold had not abated, in fact it seemed worse. Ron knew it would be wise for him to go have a shower and stay as far away from Harry as possible until he was feeling better, but that wasn't going to happen; Ron would never leave his best friend alone when he was in such bad shape.

Harry tried to sit up, but gave up and groaned instead as he blew his nose, grimacing at the soreness that was his nose. "I'm so cold," came out in fragments as his body shivered.

Ron moved the fringe from Harry's eyes and then lifted the moaning and warm body into his arms. After changing the sheets with his wand, he settled the shaking body back into the bed. When Harry was once again under the duvet, Ron poured two potions down Harry's throat. "Go to sleep. I'm not going anywhere."

~*~

When Harry awoke, he couldn't help but smile, even as he felt worse than he could ever remember feeling. Ron was asleep beside him, and he looked so peaceful. Harry wasn't sure what he had done to deserve the love of this wonderful man, but he had it and never wanted to lose it. Snuggling against Ron, Harry wrapped his arms around the lean chest and closed his eyes, allowing sleep to reclaim him.

When he next awoke, Ron helped him shower, and then they went down to the Great Hall for supper. Harry still felt awful, but he needed food, and didn't feel like going to the kitchens. Ever since Dobby had died, Harry hadn't been able to go down there, and he refused to let Ron go.

"Harry, you have to eat something. Here, eat some soup."

Harry ate a few spoonfuls then looked at Ron, feeling as if he wanted to cry. "I don't feel so good, Ron." Harry sat there staring at his food, his face pale, his body aching.

Ron helped Harry stand and once they were out of the Great Hall, he picked Harry up and carried him to the infirmary. "Madam Pomfrey? Harry has the flu, I think."

The matron walked into the room and shook her head at the two. "I knew this would happen when Minerva allowed the students to go into Hogsmeade yesterday; it is much too cold for anyone to be out, and the flu is going around as it is. Are you feeling ill, Mister Weasley?"

"I feel fine," Ron said as he shrugged his shoulders.

Poppy sighed and shook her head again. "Yes, for how long, is what I am wondering. Very well, place him on the bed in the corner and I'll take care of him. You should go get some rest."

Ron couldn't help the frown that appeared. "I don't want to kip; I want to stay with him."

"Mister Weasley, I assure you Mister Potter is in excellent hands; it'll not harm the two of you to be separated for a few hours. Now go and don't return until I call for you."

Ron briefly glared at the slightly smiling matron, but then gently placed Harry on the bed. As he kissed Harry on his forehead, he couldn't help rolling his eyes when Madam Pomfrey shooed him away, murmuring something about young love.

~*~

 

Ron was sitting in the Gryffindor Common room staring at the fire when Kreacher appeared before him. "Kreacher is being nice and is telling Mister Ronald Weasley that Madam Pomfrey requests his presence in the hospital wing at once." As quickly as he had appeared, he disappeared.

Ron bolted up, fearing something might be wrong, but then he made himself think rationally. Madam Pomfrey would not have sent Kreacher if Harry was getting worse. Trying to calm himself, Ron closed his eyes and took a deep breath. How was it that Harry James Potter had so completely taken precedence over everything else in his life? Opening his eyes, he couldn't help but laugh when he thought of Kreacher. No matter how often he saw proof of it, Ron would never become accustomed to seeing the former Black house-elf being civil, even if it was forced. Before leaving for the hospital wing, Ron ran up to their room and found Harry's Invisibility Cloak. He had the feeling Madam Pomfrey was not going to allow him to stay long, and there was no way he was leaving Harry.

When he reached the infirmary, he didn't even acknowledge Madam Pomfrey, so he didn't see the smile on her face as he entered the back room -- the only thing on his mind was Harry, who was currently sitting in the bed against the wall, propped up against several pillows, a box of tissues in front of him; he looked awful. Ron glared over his shoulder towards Madam Pomfrey's office. Wasn't she supposed to be making Harry better?

"You look a bit better," Ron lied as he approached the bed and kissed Harry on the lips, lingering longer than he should have, reveling in the feel of Harry's sweet lips beneath his. He might come down with the flu, but it would be worth it.

"Mm…missed you, Ron. If I felt better, I'd say we should have a repeat of yesterday," Harry said as he smiled dreamily after the kiss.

Ron withdrew from Harry's embrace, sat down in the chair by the bed, and held Harry's hands in his. "Yeah, we were in top form yesterday, I'd say, but seeing as how our buggering each other in the snow probably is the reason you are sick, I'd say we need to be a bit more careful in future."

Harry glared at Ron. "If I recall correctly, it was you who threw yourself at me; I tried to warn you it might not be such a good idea." Harry grinned cheekily at Ron, but he knew the effects were being somewhat muted by the red nose and green and yellow stuff he was currently blowing into the tissues.

Looking around trying to come up with a response, Ron opened and closed his mouth. "Well, Harry, you looked so cute when you were tempting me. How could I refuse? A man can only be asked to restrain himself so much."

"Yeah, I am rather cute, aren't I?" Harry rolled his eyes before sneezing again and banging his head against the pillows in exasperation. "Damn flu. Yeah definitely we don't do it in the snow ever again." Harry closed his eyes, wanting nothing more than to feel better.

"Feeling any better?" Stupid question. Ron's smile turned to concern as he felt Harry's forehead. What in the hell was Madam Pomfrey doing? Whatever it was, it wasn't helping.

"Not really, but I'll live," Harry said, his face morphing into a frown. He made room in the bed and barely gave Ron enough time to sit beside him before he was hugging Ron for dear life. "Please don't leave me alone, please, Ron, promise me."

As he rubbed soothing circles on Harry's back, Ron sighed. "It's gonna be okay." If this were anyone else, Ron would think they were being ridiculous, being so needy, but this wasn't anyone else. This was Harry Potter, who had lost almost everyone who had ever mattered to him -- the last death had occurred not even half a year earlier. Ron knew more than anyone that Harry didn't like it when he was separated from those remaining in his life.

"Harry, you can't--" A muffled voice interrupted him.

"Don't say it, Ron, just don't. I know this isn't right -- me being so dependent on you. I'm just scared. I don't want to lose you, too. If anything happens to you, I-- I won't be able to go on. Then again, that's what I do, isn't it? I go on. Everyone around me dies, and I go on. It was me he wanted, and it was them who died. I--" A bout of coughing interrupted what Harry was saying.

Deciding he had heard enough, and didn't want to hear anymore, as soon as Harry's coughing abated, Ron lifted the head currently resting on his chest and kissed the remaining words from Harry's mouth. Careful not to let the kiss linger too long because of Harry's being unable to breathe properly, Ron slowly pulled back after a few seconds. "I'm not going anywhere, Harry. Now how about a game of Exploding Snap?" Avoidance -- it wasn't healthy, but it allowed him and Harry to be together, and that was all that mattered.

Two hours later, after a few games and a late night snack via one of the house-elves -- not Kreacher -- Ron pulled up the duvet over him and an already sleeping Harry as Madam Pomfrey turned out the light.

"He is fortunate to have you, Mister Weasley. Most people would have given up on him. I commend you for being so patient with him."

Ron shook his head as he caressed Harry's cheek. "I love him, Madam Pomfrey. I'll do anything for him, and it's me who is the fortunate one…yeah, definitely me." Ron watched as the matron left the room, and then wrapped his arms around Harry protectively. He knew it was wrong that Harry depended so much on him, but it didn't bother him. Ron had always shared everything in his life, and had always vied for attention from his parents and older brothers. Harry gave him his undivided attention, and that was something Ron would never wish changed.

~*~

 

Ron felt Harry's forehead and thought it felt somewhat less warm than it had hours earlier, but the sneezing and coughing seemed to be as horrid as ever. Harry was currently asleep, but Ron knew that was not going to last much longer -- he would wake up and be frustrated because he needed rest. So did Ron. Lack of sleep was beginning to affect him, as well. Closing his eyes, attempting a few more hours sleep, Ron wasn't very happy when he felt someone shaking him lightly. Turning over, he groaned. Madam Pomfrey was looking at him as if he had done something wrong.

"I am going to insist that you return to Gryffindor tower and sleep. Mister Potter will not benefit from your care if you cannot function properly."

Ron opened his mouth to object but knew it would do him no good. He did have Harry's Invisibility Cloak, and could use that to return if he wanted to, but he knew he needed rest, and he certainly wasn't getting any with Harry constantly sneezing and making noises of agitation. Looking at Harry, sleeping fitfully, Ron extricated himself from the bed and nodded towards Madam Pomfrey. "If he asks for me, I want to know." With another glance towards Harry, Ron left.

~*~

When Ron returned later in the afternoon, he was well rested and prepared to spend time with Harry, whom he hoped was doing better because he had something important to give him. Opening the door to the back room, he was pleased to see that the diminutive young man who owned his heart looked much improved. There were still tissues everywhere, but Ron knew those would be around for quite some time.

"You are looking better." Ron brought the hand that had been behind his back around so Harry could see it, and smiled at the change of expression on the sullen face.

Harry stared as his face morphed into a grin. It couldn't be, could it? He opened his mouth but nothing would come out. He tried again and managed a slight croak, then gave up and pointed to his throat and shook his head.

Ron looked over to Madam Pomfrey who had walked in to check on Harry.

"His throat is inflamed and it is difficult for him to swallow or speak. I gave him a potion earlier and it should help, but I suggest he not attempt to talk -- he needs rest, Mister Weasley, so don't tire him out. If either of you need me, I'll be in my office."

Ron wanted to tell Madam Pomfrey he had no intention of tiring Harry out, but he settled for a curt nod as he crossed the room and sat beside Harry. "Maybe this is not the right time to give this to you, but I knew you'd want to know about this." Ron took Harry's hand in his and placed a shiny medal in it. He waited until Harry's eyes read the engraving, then he found himself in an almost smothering embrace.

It was Snape's Order of Merlin, First Class. Harry had insisted the man be given this, and no matter how many times he was told no, he persisted, and this was the result. Unfortunately, it was too late for Snape. He would never know he had received that which he had wanted for so long.

Harry would want to talk about it eventually, but probably not for a few days. Ron knew that Harry and Snape had shared something special -- he had never asked exactly what that something special was. He had an idea he might not want to know, but if Harry needed to talk about it, he would listen.

Ron noticed a tear waiting to be shed and wiped it away. "You did it, Harry. Now everyone will know what he did." Ron was unable to say anything further because Harry kissed him and soon had the two of them horizontal on the bed, and it felt so good, especially when Harry ground their hips together. Unfortunately, Harry was in no condition to partake in sexual activities, at least not the kind that he and Harry preferred. Forcing himself to sit up, Ron shook his head. "I am not going to fuck you when you can't even talk." Ron leant in for one last kiss. "I love you." Harry responded as well he could, which wasn't very intelligible, but it was enough so for Ron.

"Ssst-- Do--"

"Shh, I'm not going anywhere. Close your eyes and rest." Ron then ran his fingers through Harry's hair, thinking Harry needed a bath. As soon as he heard steady breathing, he went to see Madam Pomfrey.

When the two awoke a couple hours later, Ron helped Harry into the bath and bathed him. Of course, Harry was not so ill that he couldn't do so himself, but Ron had taken the flannel and Harry hadn't complained. Ron reverently washed the pale face, arms, hands, chest, back, legs, feet, then he returned to those parts he knew best, and it amused him when he was able to detect a slight change. He grinned as he looked at Harry, fondling the familiar balls in his hands.

"I--not Dea--"

"Yeah, and I am guessing as soon as you are able, you'll prove that to me." Ron couldn't help but get excited at the prospect. He was eighteen, and he had needs.

Later, when the two were eating supper, Harry once again tried talking, and finally he was able to get out a few intelligible words. "Thanks for giving me Severus's Order of Merlin; I know you never liked him, but he deserved this, Ron, he really did."

Ron knew this on every level, but for some reason, he hated Snape more now that he was dead than he had when the man had been alive. "I'm sure he did, Harry. Um, if you ever need to talk about it, you know you can, right?"

Harry nodded as he rested his head against Ron's chest. "Yeah, and I know I need to, but not now…I just can't."

"Shh it's okay; you don't ever have to talk about it."

"Ron, I wish I didn't have the flu. I need you right now."

Ron needed Harry, as well, or his throbbing eighteen-year-old cock did. "You've got me, Harry. Sex isn't everything." He dared his cock to contradict him.

~*~

 

Ron stepped out of the shower and dried off, staring at his reflection in the mirror. He thought he was not bad looking. His broad chest was becoming more hairy every day it seemed, and he was quite pleased with the rather vivid hairy trail that led to that place Harry loved so much. Ron thanked Merlin for allowing the scrawny redhead of six years earlier to fill out so well down there -- Harry told him often that he was rather large, and that his balls were huge. Not that Ron agreed, but if Harry was satisfied, then who was Ron to argue?

After dressing, he made his way to the hospital wing, went straight to the back room, and frowned when he saw that Harry was sleeping, but he knew sleep was good -- it would help Harry. Ron's frown changed as he noticed how peaceful Harry looked. As quietly as he could, he walked across the room and sat in the chair beside the bed. He would never tire of watching Harry.

~*~

"Ron? RON?"

Ron thought he heard someone calling his name, and then there was someone shaking him. "Wha--what? Where am I?"

"You fell asleep; here, get in the bed with me; it has to be more comfortable than that chair."

Ron happily joined Harry, but no more sleeping was going to take place for either. "How are you feeling?"

Harry smiled as he wiped his nose on his shirtsleeve. "Better, I guess. At least I can talk now. You might not be able to understand me, but I can talk. Madam Pomfrey says she hasn't seen anyone as ill as I've been in quite a while; she got onto me for being outside for so long. If she only knew!"

Ron turned over and grabbed the tissues from the bedside table, then handed them to Harry. "Here -- I don't want your green snot all over me, and yeah, I think she wouldn't want to know those details."

"Madam Pomfrey said she is going to be gone for a few hours. Are you up for some fun?" Harry asked as he snuggled up to Ron and kissed him.

That part of Ron hidden inside his pants sure was. "Are you up to it? You must be weak, still. I don't know if you are up to what we talked about in the bath." Ron took a tissue and held it to Harry's nose. "Blow."

Harry did -- two times. This was one of the reasons he loved Ron so much. "Yeah, well, you're prob'ly right. But there's nothing wrong with your strength. You can fuck me, right?"

"Uh huh, but I really don't think this is a good idea, Harry; you've got the flu -- that can be dangerous." Ron really wanted to do this, so why was he giving Harry an out?

Harry opened his mouth to respond, but was caught in a bout of sneezes that made his body hurt and his eyes water as unimaginable things came out of his nose. After four in a row, where multiple tissues found their way to the floor, he growled. "Bollocks, I'm so sick of this." He then looked Ron in the eyes and glared. "Ron, I need you in me. I just want to feel you, okay? I just want you in ME, okay?"

Ron was so going to get sick…he knew it. All he could do was nod. Harry sounded almost desperate. Why did he sound like this? It didn't make sense. They had been together for six months, and in that time they had made love every day save for the last few because of Harry's being sick. Oh…that. "Harry, I will gladly fuck you into the mattress, but do you think I would go find someone else because I miss being fucked? Is that it? Is that what has you all worried?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders then blew his nose. "I know how much you like sex, and I know you miss it," Harry finished, uncomfortable with where this conversation was going.

Ron sat up abruptly and stared ahead at the bare white walls across from him. Not so long ago these same walls were lined with family members willing to help Bill when he was attacked. Now there were no family members left to help Ron when he needed them most. There was no one to help him with Harry…he was all alone. Not breaking his lonely gaze, he began speaking. "I love you, Harry. I don't want anyone else. Yes, I do miss sex. I miss sex with you. I don't think I could ever have sex with anyone else. I know that sounds completely mad, but yeah, I know what you like. I know what sounds you make when I bring you to orgasm. I know how you love to cuddle immediately before and after sex. I know how you love frottage for your first orgasm, me sucking you off for your second, and me making love to you for your third. I know everything there is to know about you, and I love everything that is you. I don't want to have to learn anyone else. It's too hard, Harry." Ron felt as Harry sat up beside him.

"I'm sorry, Ron. I didn't mean to make you think of Hermione." Harry began rubbing circles on Ron's back. "I miss her so much, but I can't imagine what it is like for you."

Ron looked at Harry and roughly wiped at his eyes. "We weren't together long enough to know everything each other liked, but I was learning. It is a bit scary how similar her likes were to yours. She loved to cuddle…we would cuddle for hours while talking. I could have spent the rest of my life cuddling with her and that would have been fine with me."

Harry moved the fringe from Ron's eyes and rested his head on Ron's shoulder, listening to the man he loved grieving over a love lost. If not for Harry having been so stubborn, he would be in the same position, lamenting the lost love of Ginny. Not that it was easy as it was, because it wasn't. He missed his spirited Ginny more than he could convey, but he had pushed her away before their relationship had progressed too far. He missed what might have been -- Ron was missing what had been.

Harry knew without a doubt he and Ron were meant to be, and he had no doubt Ron loved him more than he had loved Hermione, but the fact that he had loved someone else so completely was a fact that would never change. Ron knew what it was to lose love. Harry should have realised that Ron would never have gone looking for sex.

"I'm sorry, Ron, I 'm such a git."

Ron wiped his eyes again as he looked up at Harry. "Yeah, you are. I would never go looking for a fuck, Harry. Why would I do that when I can make love to you?"

~*~

Harry and Ron entered the seventh year dorm room and Harry threw down his bag on the bed before placing his cloak in the Wardrobe. "I never want to see the hospital wing again."

"Yeah, well, see you don't go catching cold, then, 'cause you are too whiny for me to care for you alone." Ron threw himself in Harry's bed and rested his hands behind his head, closing his eyes.

"Oh, you know you love me and my whiny little body." Harry walked up to the edge of his bed so he was standing directly between Ron's legs, and wrapped a hand around the cloth-covered cock. "Mm, I want this in me; it's been much too long."

It just so happened that Ron wanted to be in Harry as well, and within seconds, he had sat up, had Harry and him naked, and pushed Harry back against the Wardrobe and crushed the smaller body with his. He had missed this more than he thought possible. After a few seconds, however, he pulled away, looking at Harry, worriedly. "Are you okay? I don't want to push you too far. You're better, but--"

"Ron, I'm good. My cock is more than ready. I am ready. I guess we'll find out if I'm strong enough when I either do or don't pass out, but who fucking cares? I want this in me, and I want you to make love to me," Harry said as he reached down and squeezed the hard cock pressing into him.

"Okay. But we do it in the bed. We're not fuck buddies, we are lovers, and I love you, and I want us to make love properly. Yes, we are both blokes. We like it hard, but that doesn't mean we can't be gentle. The bed won't change who we are, but for me, I think it means we are truly in this together. I asked you that we stay away from the bed when we got together for reasons I know you understand, but now I need to know you want me in your bed. Please don't make me explain, Harry."

Harry placed a finger on Ron's lips. Ron always tended to babble before sex. "Shhh…you don't need to explain anything." Harry took Ron's hands in his, brought them to his lips, and kissed the fingers. "Please take me to bed and make love to me, Ron."

Ron turned around and led the two of them the few feet to the bed, then gently pushed Harry down and grinned as green eyes dilated with need looked at him longingly as he moved further backwards until he could lie down. Ron then followed and spooned his smaller Harry, wrapping his arms around the chest in front of him. "I've missed this."

Harry clasped Ron's hands in his and nodded. "I want to fall asleep like this tonight, okay?"

"Yeah, I think I'd like that." Ron closed his eyes and took a deep breath before reopening them. Removing his left hand from Harry's, he ran his fingers through Harry's hair and leant over to kiss the scar that was a reminder of both good and bad. Ron loved it. He loved Harry.

Deciding they had cuddled long enough, Ron sat up and turned Harry so he was on his back, then covered him with his body before beginning their dance, setting a slow pace. Harry was better, and Madam Pomfrey had told Harry he could return to flying, so that seemed to confirm that sex was not out of the question, but Ron still worried.

"Are you up to the three tonight?" Ron was, but he wouldn't push Harry.

"Don't worry so much. Yes, I'm up for the three, but if you don't get started, we'll not even get to the one at this rate."

In response, Ron ground into Harry, eliciting a moan. "Liked it, did you? Then you will really like this." Ron lifted himself and sat on Harry's thighs before scooting up and grinding himself into Harry with much more force than the previous time.

"Oh Fuck, Ron," Harry panted, his eyes squeezed shut.

As fun as this was, Ron returned to his previous position lying on top of Harry, and the two began Harry's version of the lovemaking experience, in earnest. Since they both were so needy and hadn't experienced this feeling in a few days, their frantic thrusts and rubbing against each other quickly led to orgasm, first Harry, and a few minutes later, Ron, leaving them covered in a sheen of perspiration from their frantic rutting.

After listening to be sure Harry's breathing returned to normal, Ron began kissing him, beginning with his feet and working his way up the slick body. Usually he left the tasty cock until he had feasted on every other part of Harry, but today he was impatient and wanted to taste the part of Harry that made him salivate just by thinking about it, so after paying each leg proper attention, he took the erect cock into his mouth. Harry was being unusually quiet, but from the expressions on his face, Ron knew he was indeed pleasuring his lover. After swallowing Harry whole, Ron closed his eyes as his mouth was fucked repeatedly. After working them both into near exhaustion, he slowed his pace and then found the small opening with his fingers and tickled it for a few seconds before summoning the phial Harry kept in his bedside table. After working the opening for a couple of minutes, Ron inserted a finger and found the spot Harry loved so much. All it took was one touch and his throat filled with Harry. He could hear screams and a few expletives as he swallowed everything Harry gave him. When he had sucked the cock dry, he released it, raised his head, and crawled up Harry, droplets falling from his chin and falling onto Harry's chest. "I love you."

Harry grinned and lifted his head so he could remove what remained of him on Ron's chin. When he had licked everything he could, he smiled and made to sit up, causing Ron to lift himself. Harry turned over and raised himself so his bum was in the air, resting his head on his hands, which were on the pillow.

"You ready?" Ron looked reverently at the little hole staring at him, and his cock, so hard it hurt, gave him another jolt of excitement.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I am." One thrust was all it took and Harry felt Ron fill him. It was the most wonderful feeling, and he would never tire of it.

Ron was so hard that it was difficult to do anything. He wanted so badly to ram into Harry and feel the completion he could only feel when they were connected this way, but then when it was done…it was done, and that feeling would be gone.

"Bugger, Ron, we can do this again. Fuck me. You are going to bust if you don't. You are shaking like a leaf."

Ron extricated himself almost completely, and then slammed back in, almost seeing stars. "Oh, Harry, you're fucking perfect."

"I aim to please. I don't want you to touch my cock, not this time; I want your cock to make me come," Harry managed to reply in staccato grunts as he was slammed into again and again over the next few minutes. "Finish it," Harry nearly screamed as he felt himself falling. His balls were about to burst, and he couldn't feel his toes, or anything else for that matter; he was sure he was going to lose consciousness.

Lifting out one final time knowing Harry was already orgasming, Ron honed in on the prize and found it when Harry screamed, almost exactly at the same time his own cock emptied into Harry. It wasn't often they came together, so Ron reveled in the feel of both bodies shaking uncontrollably.

After a couple of minutes, Ron pulled out slowly and watched as his cock exited its home. He already missed it, but as he reminded himself every minute of the day, sex was not everything. Too bad his cock never accepted that explanation. "I can hear that your breathing sounds off. Are you okay?" Ron straddled Harry's cute little cheeks and leant over his chest.

Harry groaned at the nice weight that was pressing into him. "I'm fine; just a little short of breath. Just give me a few minutes." No, he had not passed out, but it was a damn near thing, and he wondered what would happen if he had. That would be so embarrassing.

Ron began silently berating himself. He had known it was too soon; why had he let Harry talk him into this? If anything happened--

"You're shaking, Ron. Are you cold?" Harry did not receive an answer, and he sighed. "I'm not gonna die. You fucked me and I need to catch my breath, okay?" Harry loved that Ron loved and worried about him so much.

~*~

 

Sitting in the Prefects' bath, Harry in his lap, Ron lathered the hair in front of him and began massaging the small scalp, occasionally playing the tendrils of hair like a violin. Ron's high was sex -- Harry's was having his head tended to. "You haven't sneezed since we've been in here."

"Yeah, I think I'm all better, now, well besides the coughing thing, but I can deal with that. Merlin, I hate it when I feel bad. Was I too difficult?" Harry knew the answer -- he was a bad patient.

Ron rolled his eyes, and then remembered Harry couldn't see him from his position. "You were, but I knew you would be. It's okay though. I'm used to it by now."

"You know? You've never been sick since we've been together; are you a bad patient?" It was easy to forget they hadn't been together that long because they had shared so much.

"Nah, with five older brothers there was no way I could get away with that." Ron remembered the last time he had been sick at The Burrow -- Fred and George had teased him mercilessly when their mum had coddled him. Although he had rather liked the attention, he had asked his mum not to worry about him so much; it had been enough to know that since they were the youngest, his mum and dad would always worry about him and Ginny -- he had felt secure with that knowledge. Growing up, Ron had felt so loved, as he did now with Harry, and he loved making Harry feel loved as well.

"I'll let you get away with it." Harry had never had anyone to care for and he rather liked the idea of caring for Ron.

"Thanks…I think." About that time, Ron's cock made itself known and he smiled. He really should make it stop…if he could -- Harry needed a break. Ignoring it for the time-being, he continued. "Um I don't think I ever told you, but when I woke up after -- after the…you know…I sat by your bed every day until you regained consciousness. I talked to you and even read. I'm not sure if you remember what happened when you woke up, but you were really out of it. I learned during that time how ghastly you are when you are hurt, but I also learned how much I like taking care of you."

"You read to me?" Harry smirked although he knew his look was lost on the wall in front of him, then scooted back a few inches so he was closer to Ron -- feeling Ron responding to him as he had when talking made Harry want to make Ron come in the bath, but he wasn't going to be obvious about it…verbally, that is. "You know, I don't think I ever thanked you properly for helping me. Um, are you washing my hair, or are you playing with it?"

Ron almost laughed at the complete subject change, but knew what it meant, and it didn't deserve a laugh. "Washing your hair and playing with it are one in the same; you know that." Ron shook his head and smiled as he took the glass on the edge of the bath and placed it under the nearest tap so it could fill with water. He then poured the water onto Harry's head, and repeated this four more times. "You thanked me in the way that mattered; you lived." Ron then pulled Harry back and kissed his forehead before the two turned the bath into their own waterbed for the next few hours and made love as only two men could. Harry did begin sneezing again, but it wasn't enough to stop their activities.

~*~

Lying in his bed watching Harry sleep, Ron couldn't help the small laugh that escaped. Harry might think he was all better, but the tissues surrounding his bed said otherwise. Their vigorous buggering surely hadn't helped in that sense, but it had surely helped in other ways.

"You're staring at me, aren't you?"

"Of course; I'm thinking about how chuffed you were when you used me as a fountain. I thought you were asleep."

"Mmm, yeah, that was nice." Harry had a dreamy look on his face. "We should experiment more, but I'm gonna be sore from you riding me like a hippogriff fucking a Harpie on the tile; remind me not to let you go days without sex again, okay?" Harry yawned as he sat up. "I had one of my dreams and it woke me," he said as he threw his legs over the side of the bed. "We should probably go to lunch unless we want Madam Pomfrey in here."

The two walked into the Great Hall and sat at the one table that now replaced the four house tables. Including Harry and Ron, there were thirty-two students. Hogwarts had not officially reopened, but would be receiving new students for the new term in a few weeks. For now, the school served as a safe-haven for the students whose parents either had been killed or injured…it was a sad place to be.

Both ate as quickly as possible, and then went outside to get some fresh air. They walked down to the lake and sat under the large Beech tree, Harry leaning back against Ron, whose back was resting against the leafless tree.

Harry was feeling as if he could fall asleep again, but his quiet musings were interrupted.

"Are you happy?"

"Yeah, 'course I am, why?"

"You could have anyone you want, Harry. You see them when we go to Hogsmeade -- all the girls throw themselves at you. I'm happy you chose me, but am I what you really want?"

Harry pulled away from Ron's hands, which were currently working their way down his chest, and turned around, feeling himself beginning to shake. He tried looking at Ron, but couldn't. How could Ron doubt how he felt? "What I really want, Ron, is for Ginny, Hermione, Neville and Luna to still be alive, I want Draco to be alive. I want your mum, dad, Bill and Fleur, Charlie, Percy, Fred and George to be alive. I want Dumbledore to be alive, I want Remus to be alive, I want Hagrid to be alive, and most of all, I want Snape to be alive. But it doesn't matter WHAT I want, does it? But what does matter is WHO I want, and if I wanted to go out and find a beautiful girl who would treat me like a prince, yeah, I could do that. I'm even sure she would feel good and I would enjoy fucking her, but I don't want a fuck, Ron -- I don't want a sodding girl, and I don't fancy any other blokes…I want you. I love YOU." Harry could feel the tears burning his eyes. "I love you, Ron." Harry climbed into Ron's lap and straddled him. "Do you love me?"

Ron couldn't speak; he stared ahead at the lake, his body shaking. He could feel Harry's fingers wiping away the tears, and he wanted to say something, but he couldn't. They weren't ever coming back, were they? He had known it, had accepted it, and thought he had made peace with it as much as he could, but there was no peace to be had. His mum was gone. How could she be gone? It wasn't fair. "Sorry…so sorry…didn't me--I love you, Harry…I love you…I love you…I lov--"

Harry pulled Ron to him. "It's okay, sshh…it's okay."

~*~

When Ron had finally fallen asleep, Harry allowed his own tears to fall. It was all so unfair. He was happier than he thought possible, but he missed everyone so much. How could he and Ron ever be able to live happily when everyone else who they loved had been killed? And there were so many others who would never be the same. It just didn't seem right….and Snape -- Harry missed him so much he thought he would die from the loneliness, even though he was never alone. He loved Ron with all his heart, but he also felt the same about Snape, and he didn't understand how that could be possible. How in the hell could he love someone who he had never touched as a lover? Closing his eyes, Harry silently cried himself to sleep.

~*~

 

"Mm, feels good," Harry grunted, his words barely legible.

Ron grinned as he lowered his head and licked the area around Harry's opening, applying slightly more pressure than on his previous taste. After a few other teasing swipes of his tongue, the phial flew into his hands and he commenced with the preparation of his morning feast. It took little preparation, and he entered Harry with two thrusts.

"Ghhhhhrrrruuu--"

"Feel good, does it?" Ron managed to grunt as Harry clinched around him.

"Uh-huh. Moooooove."

Ron did as asked and was soon slamming into Harry, and after the two had repositioned themselves a few minutes later so that Harry was on his stomach, his bum once again in the air, they resumed. This was how Harry liked it best, and Ron wasn't about to complain. "Touch yourself."

Harry didn't need to be told twice; he began fisting his cock to the thrusts, a finger brushing the tip as his hands felt the foreskin and caressed it, his other fingers feeling the tensing of his balls on either side. This was going to be a hard one -- and it was -- Harry groaned as he began shaking, trying to suppress the scream that wanted to escape his throat when he felt warm liquid covering his hands and as Ron once again thrust into him.

Ron looked on in awe as he watched a look of pure ecstasy cross Harry's face, that cute little mouth open, post-orgasm breathing, the only sound. As serene as he looked, Ron wanted to make Harry scream. As his cock buried itself on the next thrust, he threw his head back and screamed louder than he thought he was capable, and yes, he made Harry scream. It had never before felt like this. He felt himself empty and once again thanked his lover for having him.

Once they were cuddling, with Ron spooned behind Harry, Ron broke the silence. "Sorry, it was your turn, but you just looked so inviting. You really should wear something to bed while you are sick; I don't want you to get sick again."

Harry was feeling quite sated and he was basking in the afterglow, so he didn't quite catch the seriousness in Ron's voice. "I'm fine. The worst is over, and you are just sulking because I am too damned tempting and you can't control that cock of yours…um not that I'm complaining, mind you. That was a bloody brilliant way to wake up. I'll have my go soon enough."

Ron turned around so he was facing Harry and pulled him closer. There was truth in Harry's words. "Am I too demanding…sexually?" Ron ran a hand through the fringe on Harry's forehead and then traced the scar, smiling when Harry closed his eyes and leant into the touch.

Harry stilled Ron's hand and held it. "I guess if we were normal, then yeah our dependence on sex would be debilitating, but we're not normal and we need each other; it seems to be the only way we can cope. I'll be here for you whenever you need me, Ron." Almost as soon as he had said it, he regretted it. Why did they have such fucked up lives?

Those words weren't exactly what Ron had wanted to hear. "Do you need me? Please tell me this is not all about my needs and my trying to escape reality and that you don't want this."

Harry laughed as he pointedly looked down at Ron's cock, nestled in its bed of red hair. Yeah, he did want this. "Yeah, 'cause if it was all about you then that would be bad, right? You are not the only one who enjoys our morning and afternoon and night fucks, you know. I can do the avoidance thing as well as you can, you know. Sex is great for that." Okay, he had probably gone too far. Harry sighed and his smile changed as he sat and pulled Ron up with him. "Who in the hell do you think I am?" he asked, looking in between Ron and his hands. "Of course I need you. If I didn't want to wake up having an orgasm, I would tell you. Yes, we use sex, and I know that. I also know it is unhealthy, but I don't care. If we didn't love each other than it would be wrong, but we do, so it's not. Sometimes I wish we could stay in bed all day so we wouldn't have to face what is outside those doors. It's safe in here with you. And yes, it doesn't hurt that having that cock in me does unimaginable things to me, but whatever we have, it's not about fucking, as I think you know. As I have told you before, if I wanted someone to fuck me, I'd go out and find someone."

Ron was the one to laugh this time. "If you ever want a fuck, I can change myself into whomever you want. I've always wanted to see what it would feel like to be someone else."

"Mmm, I'll have to remember that." Harry winked then leant over and kissed Ron, pulling back when he had thoroughly paid adequate attention to those pink lips he loved so much, then got out of the bed. "I'm going to have a shower; want to join me?"

Oh yes, Ron most certainly did want to join Harry, but then no showering would take place. "I think I'm gonna kip."

"Okay, but if you change your mind…" Harry leant down and kissed Ron again. "You aren't looking so well; I hope you're not catching flu?"

Ron growled. "YOUR flu."

Harry rolled his eyes then left.

Ron sneezed.

~*~

Later in the afternoon, Harry told Ron he would be back soon, and he went to the Pumpkin Patch and stood at the entrance, looking around and wishing he could turn back the clock. He wanted to close his eyes and find out that this had all been a bad dream, but he wasn't having a dream -- this was real. This was where he had last seen Snape…this is where…this is where Snape had died. Sitting on the damp ground, traces of snow still visible, Harry placed his head in his hands. It was all too real.

He had held Snape…probably in this very spot….

He had watched in horror as Snape clutched his chest and held on to Harry, begging him silently to help him….

Harry had cradled Snape to him, apologising for everything -- for his former hatred of the man, and for his inability to help him.

"There you are. It's getting dark; I was worried." Ron wasn't stupid, he knew Harry was thinking about what had happened that day. He wished he could do something to help, but he wasn't even sure what exactly had happened after he had gone home for the summer; all he knew was that several lives had been forever changed two months later. "Harry, maybe it's time you talked about it."

Harry played with the dirty snow, drawing figure eights with his finger, not wanting to look at Ron, and shook his head. What was Ron nattering on about? He was the one who needed to talk. "I just--I just--I can't talk about it -- not yet, 'm sorry." Harry finally looked up at Ron, and he knew he didn't have to say anything.

Ron understood the look, and nodded. "You need to talk, but I'm not gonna force you to, 'cause then you'd want me to talk about-- you know-- them, and I just can't. If I don't talk about it, it's okay. I can think that-- that they--" Ron shook his head, quickly turned around, and left. Of course he knew what the truth was…hell, it had stared him in the face for six months, and the previous Christmas and Boxing Day without the people he loved so much had been the jolt of reality Ron had dreaded ever since he had heard the devastating news.

~*~

After eating supper, Harry made his way to Gryffindor Tower, wondering if he had made the right decision by giving Ron some time to himself. There was so much both of them needed to talk about, but Harry knew neither of them was ready. Ron had lost far more, there was no doubt about that, so the right thing to do would be for him to tell Ron what had happened to him that day. Ron had asked and had tried to help, even when he was the one who needed help more. Harry needed to do this for Ron -- he needed to show Ron that it was okay to talk about it…but it hurt so much.

Crawling through the portrait - not The Fat Lady, but another portrait he had never seen before the previous summer, Harry noticed the fire was going, and when his eyes scanned the room, he caught a glimpse of red hair -- Ron was sitting on the floor leant against the sofa. Not sure what he should do, he approached the sofa. "Alright if I sit down?"

Ron shrugged. "Yeah."

Harry sat down next to Ron and sighed, staring at the fire. He was going to do this, but he doubted what he had to say would make much sense. Wringing his hands in his lap, he looked over at Ron and shook his head. What he should be doing was forcing Ron to talk; instead, he would do the talking. "I need you to know about Snape."

Ron never broke his gaze from the flames lapping at one another in a battle to see which one could give off more light and energy. "You don't need to tell me, really you don't." Ron didn't want to hear it. He just didn't want to hear it…but then again Harry hadn't asked him to talk; that was good.

Harry continued as if Ron had said nothing. "Snape brought me one of the Horcruxes a week after he killed Dumbledore. He didn't say anything, he just left it with a piece of parchment behind the pumpkin patch. Hedwig, um I guess Snape asked her to find me because she did. All the parchment said was to keep practicing. I didn't. A few days later another Horcrux appeared. He brought them all to me, Ron. He never once allowed me to see him, and he never signed his parchments, but I knew it was him. Then he sent me a parchment telling me how to destroy them, so I did. A few days later, he sent me a map, telling me where Voldemort was, and told me if I felt as if I was prepared, I should go do what I had been chosen to do. I wasn't.

"Ron, Snape gave me everything I needed. A few days later, I received a parchment from Draco. Voldemort had discovered what Snape had been doing and had punished him. Draco told me Snape would die unless I helped him. I thought about letting him die but I couldn't allow anyone else to die because of me, so I agreed to help. I took potions from the hospital wing and had them owled to Draco, who gave them to Snape. We did this until the beginning of August, when he Apparated to the Quidditch Pitch where I was flying. He looked like hell, but he said I needed to keep practicing. I didn't. Then he Disapparated. A few days later, Draco Apparated to Hogwarts with Snape, saying he was dying, and Madam Pomfrey said it appeared as though he had suffered a massive heart attack. She did all she could for him, but she said his heart was too weak, and he would die -- not even magic would save him. For two days, I watched him slowly fade away into nothing; he died in my arms. I watched him die, Ron -- it was so fast. After he died, I carried him here and found out that Voldemort had attacked the school, and everyone who was here, except for Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey, were dead. So while I was caring for Snape, Voldemort decided to attack. Madam Pomfrey did not find any curses on him, but I know that Voldemort sent Snape because he knew I would be so worried about him that I would not be paying attention to what was going on around me."

Sighing again, Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He hadn't told anyone much about what had happened, giving only vague responses when asked. He should probably feel better for having told Ron, but he knew there was much more he needed to say -- but it would have to wait for another day.

Breaking his hypnotic stare, Ron turned to look at Harry and watched as Harry stared at the fire, taking in deep breaths. Snape and Harry hadn't been together. Ron found that for some reason he felt sad at this realization. "You don't need to go on."

"I loved him, Ron. I don't understand it, but I did. It wasn't at all the type of love I have for you, but it was love all the same. I don't know, maybe I was so starved for attention that I attached myself to him, thinking he cared for me. I know it's stupid, but he never asked much of me, unlike everyone else. The one thing he ever asked me to do, I didn't, and well, we know what happened. It wasn't so much that he treated me normal…I don't know; I just wish he were still here."

Ron leant his head back on the sofa and closed his eyes. "You had already been out for so long when I woke up, and I thought you were going to die -- Madam Pomfrey said there was no way you could survive, but Professor McGonagall refused to give up on you, and so did I. There was no way I was going to lose you, Harry. Everything I had ever loved was taken from me, and if you had died, I would have joined you, and I'll tell you right now straight up -- if anything happens to you, I'll not remain behind."

Harry stood up and sat on the sofa. He was emotionally exhausted from talking about Snape, and he knew Ron was the same for similar reasons. "Come here." Ron sat in Harry's lap. It might look odd to anyone else -- a tall well-built man sitting in the lap of a small slight of build man that looked like a kid, but Ron needed this, and anyone who thought it looked wrong could sod off.

Ron turned so his legs dangled over the arm of the sofa and leant his head onto Harry's chest. He rested in Harry's arms, and he didn't even care that it felt as if Harry was holding him like a child. "I'm sorry Snape died, Harry."

Harry looked down at Ron, whose eyes were shut. This was so unfair. Why had this happened? "You need sleep."

"I don't need sleep, Harry."

The sound of Ron's voice and the look on his face almost made Harry cry -- no, Ron didn't need sleep, but that was the best he was going to get.

~*~

 

Ron opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling, debating whether he should get up or wait. He needed the loo, but he didn't want to get out of bed. Maybe he could hold it until morning, but he was too tired to get his wand to see what time it was. After a few more minutes passed, his need for release making him uncomfortable, he pushed the duvet back and stumbled out of bed, making his way to the loo. He did his business then looked in the mirror to see if he looked as bad as he felt. He did. He felt his forehead and knew he was running a temperature. At least he hadn't begun the sneezing part yet, but he knew that was coming…it always did. Walking back to the seventh year dorm, Ron collapsed on his bed and crawled over so he could get his wand from the bedside table. It was three forty-eight. Terrific. Hadn't Madam Pomfrey given Harry some extra potions?

Looking over at the only other occupied bed, Ron's eyes raked over the naked form, the duvet long ago relegated to the floor. One of Harry's legs was hanging over the side of the bed, and one of his arms was above his head giving Ron the perfect view of his lover's under arm hair…one of Harry's sensitive spots, a place Ron had ignored since the flu had struck. Ron was quite happy they had decided to keep their beds viewable by one another at night, preferring to see each other.

Lying down, Ron moved one of his hands to his hardening cock and within a few minutes, it was at full attention. He began pumping it and then he turned on his side and found his opening with the other hand. Inserting a finger, Ron pushed it in as far as it would go. It was a bit drier down there than usual, but he figured his being sick might be the reason. He retrieved his wand and within a few seconds, his finger was easily sliding in and out, and other fingers joined it, fucking his little hole until it was no longer little. He then removed his hand from his cock and placed a _Silencing Charm_ because he didn't want to wake Harry. Returning to his cock, the hand began pumping it harder and harder, and his fingers began a more frenetic pace, swiping his prostate as often as possible. Ron arched his back and with a few more thrusts, he was shooting his come on the duvet and sheet, and he watched as some of it fell to the floor. After he had come down and could breathe again, he cleaned himself and then made sure the come was gone from the various places it had fallen.

Harry was coming down from his own orgasm. He had listened to Ron, feeling only somewhat guilty about reversing the _Silencing Charm_ Ron had placed around his bed. Hearing his lover wanking was always fun and erotic, and it always resulted in Harry doing the same. Almost immediately after Ron had begun, so had Harry, and a few minutes after Ron had come, so did Harry, and he had not set up _Silencing Charms_.

After he cleaned himself, Harry fell asleep.

~*~

Ron woke up sneezing and groaned when he realised it was still dark out. He was sick, and he knew he probably had the flu -- he ached all over. Sitting up in his bed slowly, he raised a hand to his head and groaned again.

"Ron? Why didn't you wake me earlier?" asked a sleep-filled voice.

"Sorry; I didn't want to wake you. You're still getting over the flu and need your rest."

Harry rolled his eyes before getting out of bed, retrieving a phial, and climbing in with Ron. "Take this; it'll help."

After swallowing the contents, Ron turned and faced Harry. "Maybe it's just a cold." He had a feeling it wasn't.

"Yeah, could be." He knew it was the flu.

Ron sneezed. "Guh I hate being sick."

Harry retrieved his wand and soon the tissues were next to Ron's pillow. "You need them more than me."

Ron sneezed again and blew his nose with the tissue Harry had handed him. "Thanks."

"You need sleep." Harry slid under the duvet and cuddled next to Ron. He felt Ron shivering and remembered how miserable he had felt not so many days ago. He rubbed his hands over Ron's arms and back. "Accio Ron's pants." As much as Harry loved that Ron slept in the nude, being sick and nude did not go well together.

"I don't want to wear them. I can't sleep with anything on; I need to breathe."

"Put them on, Ron; you are shivering. "

Ron rubbed up against an equally naked Harry. "You can keep me warm. If I have to put on pants, then so do you."

Harry called his pants to him and donned them. "Happy?"

As Ron pulled on his, he shook his head. "No."

~*~

"Are you sure you'll be okay?"

"I said I would be. You go on. I know you miss flying, and you did promise some of the younger students you'd give them some pointers, so go on. I am sure once you get back you won't let me do anything; I'll survive until then. I can occupy myself just fine, thank you."

Harry laughed. "Yes, I heard how well you do that last night."

"I should have known; I heard you groan, and wondered why."

"Yeah, you don't think I'd listen and not get hard, right? I had no choice," Harry replied cheekily.

"When you get back from the flying, maybe we can take care of each other."

"You're sick; you wouldn't touch me sexually until I was better, and I am going to return the favor." Ah, sometimes revenge was so sweet! Um but not when it punished him, as well...but still, Ron was sick.

"But I am not as sick as you were," Ron whined.

Harry quirked an eye. "We'll see how you are when I get back. Um, while you were having a shower, I went and borrowed Professor McGonagall's Pensieve. You might be interested to see what is in there. It's down in the Common Room."

"Thanks." Ron sneezed and grabbed a tissue. "Go; I'll be fine."

Harry left. Ron never would have left him. He turned around and reopened the door feeling bad. There his lover was lying in his bed -- the duvet pulled up to his chin, a tissue in both hands, and empty potion phials strewn on the floor surrounding their beds.

Ron looked up when he heard the door opening. "Go, Harry. I have my tissues, plenty of potion, and McGonagall's Pensieve; what more do I need?" Harry began responding, but Ron never heard a word because he began sneezing again. When he finally stopped and was able to breathe, he glared at Harry. "GO!"

~*~

 

Ron was achy, and he had begun sneezing, but he didn't feel too bad. He knew it was coming, but for now, he was going to go see what Harry had left in the Pensieve; was it something to do with Snape? Or what happened later that day with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? Ron didn't much want to see memories of either, but if Harry wanted him to view them, then he would.

Once he seated himself on the floor before the fire, he placed the Pensieve before him and entered, a bit hesitant at first, but then he dove in, wanting to get this over with.

He saw white stuff…snow…then Harry and him…ohhhhh…Ron felt his pants tighten.

  
_Harry was lying in the snow moving his arms up and down._

"What in Merlin's name are you doing, Harry?"

"Making a Snow Angel."

"What's that?"

"Something I learned from the Muggles."

"You look ridiculous."

"That's not what you said last night when I was laying on my back letting you do unspeakable things to me."

Ron looked around, and then smirked as he knelt beside Harry. "Have you ever thought what it would be like to do it in the snow?"

Harry laughed, but then stopped. "You're serious?"

"Yeah; it would be bloody brilliant. We could do it here."

  
Ron lowered his trousers and roughly grasped his cock.

~*~

"I don't know Ron; I don't think it's a good idea. For one thing, it is freezing. I don't know about you, but I don't want to get my kit off out here."

Ron wrapped his arms around the smaller body. "I'll keep you warm." Before Harry could respond, Ron began kissing him, undoing Harry's trousers. When he pulled back, he undid his trousers. "Please, Harry?"

"This is a bad idea, but yeah, okay." Harry lowered his trousers and shoved them and his pants down before lowering himself to the ground.

"I want to see you when we make love."

  
Ron began breathing in short shallow gasps.

~*~

Harry turned over and then gasped when he felt as his trousers and pants disappeared. "Damn, Ron it is fucking freezing out here." Within a second, he was gasping as a very naked Ron pounced on him.

Ron picked up a handful of snow and began stretching Harry, laughing at the expressions flitting across Harry's face. When he had prepared Harry well enough, he lifted Harry's legs and placed them on his shoulders before beginning his slow descent into Harry. When he was as far as he could get, Ron pulled out and then pushed in with all his strength.

  
Ron used his other hand to caress his balls.

~*~

Ron knew that with the snow as their bed, nether he or Harry would last long.

Harry screamed as Ron found his prostate, and his fingers raked the snow as his hips took on a life of their own. He still thought this was a bad idea, but damn if it didn't feel good! Harry took hold of his cock and began fisting it with Ron's thrusts. "Harder, Ron."

Ron pulled out. "Turn over, but lie flat; I want to try something."

Harry did as he was told in anticipation of what was about to happen. Ron loved to experiment.

  
Ron furiously worked his cock, needing release.

~*~

Ron opened Harry's legs and spread them as far as they would move, then he found his wand and lifted Harry so he was in a V formation at a forty five degree angle to the ground, his head hovering just above the snow.

Ron reentered Harry, but instead of pulling out and pushing back in, Ron stayed inside and with a flick of his wand, both he and Harry began floating. Ron placed his arms around Harry, pushing himself further into the slender body beneath him. Then within seconds, they turned in mid-air, so Harry could be on top.

  
Ron screamed as he shot his come onto his stomach.

~*~

They continued floating above the ground, and even as neither was moving, Ron had placed a charm on them, and they were both being pleasured.

"Ron, this is nice, but I kind of want to do this the normal way."

Ron lowered them to the ground and immediately began slamming into Harry, making all sorts of noises.

Ron felt them sinking into the snow and heard Harry and him muttering words that weren't at all nice. This felt better than sex riding on a Thestral, and that had been surreal, especially for Ron, who hadn't been able to see it.

  
Ron removed his trousers and pants before lying flat, his eyes looking forward.

~*~

Ron grabbed a handful of snow and coated Harry's cock with it, and that was all it took. Harry yelled and writhed and convulsed for quite a while. Ron then resumed his fast pace and impaled Harry again and again, until Harry was again writhing with need. Ron loved his little charm - Harry could come as many times in a row as he wanted.

When Ron felt he was losing control, he bit down on Harry's back, causing both of them to climax.

Lying in the snow, exhausted, Harry leant over to kiss Ron. "That was a bloody good idea."

  
Ron rubbed into whatever it was underneath him, panting Harry's name, then he bucked up when he felt someone behind him…behind him?

  
He then found himself back on the floor in the Gryffindor Common Room, and he hadn't been dreaming; Harry was currently straddling him. He turned his head and met Harry in a soft chaste kiss. "We looked bloody gorgeous rutting into each other in the snow."

"Yeah, it almost makes me want to go do it again…but um no - flu is not worth it."

'Yeah, I guess you're right. I thought you wanted me to remain calm because I was sick. Showing me porn in the snow is not exactly calming, you know."

Harry stood up and looked down at Ron. "You're not that bad yet. It was selfish, really; last night when you wanked, it got me all hot, and I wanted to watch you do it again. This morning the idea came to me about our 'porn in the snow' as you call it, so I went to get the Pensieve and the rest, well…"

Ron stood up, his cock once again hard. Looking at Harry, he smiled as Harry knelt in front of him and took the fat cock in his mouth. This, he had missed. "Suck me off hard, Harry, I don't want it nice and easy."

Harry had his hands on both of Ron's hips, his tongue and teeth getting a work out. Ron's moans and guttural sounds spurred him on, and before he realised it, Ron had somehow dragged them to the sofa, where he fell backwards, causing Harry's teeth to graze the cock a bit harder than was acceptable. "Sorry."

Ron wasn't. He usually warned Harry before he was going to come, but not this time. He grabbed Harry's head and pulled it to him, knowing he was probably causing discomfort, but not being able to care. He babbled as he let loose, and heard as Harry swallowed until the cock had to be dry.

As soon as Ron was cleaned, Harry lowered his trousers and grabbed his cock, needing to feel his own release.

"Um no you don't." Ron removed Harry's hand and replaced it with his own, wrapping it around Harry. "I want you to fuck my hand, Harry."

Harry repositioned himself so he was lying on the sofa, his head on one arm, and his legs on the other. He pushed up on his legs causing Ron to stand, or bend as it were. Harry closed his eyes and reveled in the feel of Ron's hand on him, and the feel of the cool air on his naked torso as it increased its up and down motion through the air. "Touch me, Ron."

"Turn over." Ron released Harry and as soon as the smaller body was on its stomach, Ron climbed onto it, his feet lifted above Harry's head, his head, mere inches above Harry's opening. Without any warning, he began working it with his tongue, but he stilled his movements when he thought Harry was about to come.

"No Fair. It hurts, Ron."

Ron found his wand and soon had them hovering inches above the sofa. He then wrapped his arms around Harry's torso and found the stiff cock. As he dove as deep as he could into Harry with his tongue, he squeezed the cock and felt Harry beginning to shake uncontrollably, trying to get release. When he finally came, Ron could tell he had waited too long. "Um, sorry."

After several minutes had passed, and after Ron had lifted off Harry, Harry turned over, his face flushed, his breathing still ragged. "I felt like I was going to explode. It's never felt like that before."

"Sorry."

"Quit apologizing; we should do that again."

Ron opened up his mouth to reply but began sneezing, not having time to catch his breath before the next one shook his body.

"Come on, bed for you; I probably shouldn't have shown you the _snow porn_." Harry pulled on his pants and trousers and used his wand to dress Ron.

Ron followed Harry up the stairs and collapsed on his bed when they entered their room. "Wake me for lunch." It wasn't more than a few minutes later that Ron was asleep.

Harry walked over to Ron's bed and sat down on the edge. After removing Ron's and his trousers, he lay beside his lover and was soon breathing steadily beside the laboured breathing of Ron.

~*~

 

Feeling someone sitting on his bed, Ron opened an eye. "That you, Harry?"

"Yeah; I brought you breakfast."

Ron turned over and looked at the wide variety of foods that were on his desk. "You went to the kitchens?" Although this was good, it was bad.

"Yeah. I couldn't stay away forever. You look like hell."

Ron pointed his wand at his desk and a plate of bangers, along with toast and tomatoes floated over to him. "Yeah, I thought I probably did. I don't think I've got it as bad as you did, though, so that's good."

Harry grabbed a piece of toast and took a bite as he sat beside Ron, studying him. For all he knew Ron could be worse than he had been, but Harry knew Ron would never complain; he would suffer in silence rather than bother anyone else. Harry would make certain Ron didn't suffer any more than he had to. After finishing his toast, he got out of the bed. "I'm gonna have a shower, then I'm gonna take care of you like you did for me."

Ron, mouth filled, smiled. "Then we won't be having sex anymore today, I take it?"

"Right you are, but don't worry; you'll live." Harry winked and left.

Ron finished eating; he knew how much it had cost Harry to get the food. They would never talk about it -- Harry didn't talk about a lot of things, but then again, neither did he. It had been such a huge thing for Harry to tell him about Snape, and Ron loved that he had opened up, he just wish he could help him open up more.

~*~

Harry stood under the tap and the hot water felt so good on his cold body, but it did little to warm him. He had to keep it together; he had to take care of Ron. Why was he unable to let go? Ron had lost his entire family and he wasn't falling apart. True, he wasn't talking about it at all, but he was coping. Harry wasn't -- he never had.

Turning off the tap, Harry stepped out, and as he dried his body he looked at himself in the mirror. Ron was always telling him what a nice body he had, but Harry didn't see it; he was skinny and short, and his cock was small. He couldn't understand what Ron saw in him.

Instead of the shower making him feel better, it had put him in a bad state, and all he wanted to do was crawl in the bed with Ron and never let go. As he entered their room, he tried to smile, seeing that Ron had fallen asleep, and within a second Harry had joined him, wrapped his arms around Ron, and closed his eyes. When he felt Ron wrap his larger hands around his smaller ones, Harry did smile. Yeah, Ron was the sick one, but he would always be the one to take care of Harry.

~*~

Harry sat up and looked around, not fully awake. Where was Ron? He heard sneezes and watched as the door opened, showing a disheveled looking Ron.

"I was tossing and turning and didn't want to wake you, so I decided to go sit by the fire."

"Uh huh, and you watched our _snow porn_ again, did you?" Harry smirked and sighed as he briefly relived their romp in the snow.

Lying beside Harry and pulling him down, Ron rolled his eyes. "Of course I did. Now tell me, what has you looking so lost today?"

"Nothing. I'm worried about you 's all."

"Yeah, the thing is, I don't believe that. Want to talk about it?"

This was really making him mad. Couldn't Ron just leave it alone? Glaring, Harry shook his head.

"Look, Harry, you can't go on like this, you're--"

Harry closed his eyes and tried to keep it quiet, but he couldn't, so he sat up and stared at the wall across from him. "Shut Up, Ron, don't you dare say anything. You sit there and smile and you act as if you are okay, but you're not. Your family was murdered and you act as if nothing happened. You sit there and smile and fuck me, let me fuck you, and it's all okay. If we don't stop to think about it, it's okay. So don't you dare say anything to me about not talking. I fucking told you about Snape, and what have you told me, huh?" Harry slowly turned and stared wide-eyed at Ron, wanting to cry. What had he done?

Ron didn't have the mildest of tempers, and he had never been one to rein in his feelings around others, but with Harry he had always remained calm. Harry was Ron's reason for living, and there just wasn't anything that could anger Ron where Harry was concerned.

He turned over and grabbed a tissue and blew his nose a few times before turning back to Harry and speaking calmly. "I do not walk around looking like I just lost my best friend. I am not so debilitated by my losses that I can't function. Do I hurt? What do you think? But the difference between you and me is that you need me and everyone else to reassure you. I don't need anyone but you, Harry, and I don't want you to reassure me. My life will never be okay without my family, so why would I ever seek reassurance? Now, I am going to ask this once. Please cease with this endless attempt to get me to open up and pour my soul to you. I can't do it, Harry. I love you, but please don't ask me to give you want I can't." Ron sneezed again and closed his eyes, feeling the bed shift. When he opened them, Harry was gone. Ron didn't have the strength to go after him, so he pulled the pillow Harry had been lying on, cradled it, and shut his eyes.

Ron had just drifted off when the bed dipped, and he felt Harry snuggle in front of him. For some reason, Harry had always preferred to spoon Ron from behind, something about he felt as if he was taking care of Ron. Now Harry was snuggling in front of him.

Harry pressed himself into Ron, immediately feeling protected, and he wanted Ron to know he would always want his protection. He closed his eyes and let a tear fall as Ron ran fingers through his hair. He was so stupid; he had almost lost Ron. He needed Ron.

~*~

"Ron…wake up; you're having a night-mare."

"Wha-Oh, Harry, it's you."

"Yeah, it's me," Harry said, a bit apprehensively. "You started yelling and I thought you were going to hurt yourself."

"Sorry if I woke you. Ugh, my head is killing me."

Harry found two more phials of potion and handed one to Ron. "We'll need to go get more tomorrow." Harry crawled behind Ron and began massaging his temples. "Close your eyes."

Ron did as Harry asked and tried to relax; unfortunately, it was difficult to do this when his head was pounding and he needed to sneeze, but was trying not to because his nose was raw. "Mum always knew how to make my headaches go away; she knew exactly what to do. Fred and George would always tease me, but I didn't care 'cause Mum always made it better."

Continuing to massage Ron's temples, Harry nodded; there was nothing to say. He wasn't Ron's mum, but he was Ron's lover, and as such, he should know how to make it all better for Ron. "What did your mum, do, Ron?"

"You'll laugh if I tell you."

"When have I ever laughed at anything you've told me…er that is when you were trying to be serious, 'cause yeah, sometimes you mean to be funny."

Ron shook his head. "I knew what you meant. She would sing to me…in my ear where only I could hear. I don't know how she did it, but she always made my headaches go away."

Harry was once again reminded of how much he had missed out on by not having a mum when he was growing up. He would have loved it if his mum had sung in his ear. "I can't sing, but I can whisper in your ear."

Ron laughed. "Yeah, you whisper very well in my ear."

Harry leant over so he was hovering over Ron's left ear, and began whispering. "Sometimes I say things I really don't mean, I hope you know you are my dream. I can be a right git at times, but whom else but me would lie with you in the snow and get off their kit?" Harry then kissed Ron's earlobe. "Feeling any better?"

"Mm, do that some more and I might be."

~*~

Harry sat at his desk staring at the blank parchment, not knowing what to write, but he had to think of something. He had almost lost Ron and he wanted to say how sorry he was, and he wanted Ron to know how much he needed him. Whatever he wrote, he needed to hurry if it was going to be finished before Ron woke up.

After several discarded attempts, finally, Harry thought he had done it. It wasn't that great, but it was from him, and he hoped Ron appreciated the effort. Folding the parchment, Harry quietly made his way over to Ron's bed and placed it beside his pillow. Then he left to go get some more potions.

~*~

Sneezing, Ron groaned. This was not fun -- he was exhausted and he couldn't breathe. He looked over to get another potion and cursed when he saw there were none left. Maybe Harry had gone to get him more. He hoped so. He turned over and felt something odd under his head, and when he saw the folded parchment with his name roughly scrawled, Ron smiled and picked it up. What had Harry written him?

_Ron,_

We've been together for almost six months and I want you to know how happy you've made me. Thank you for not giving up on me when everyone thought I was going to die. It means so much to me, knowing you were there. I have tried and tried to come up with the perfect gift to thank you for everything, but I am crap at drawing and writing. About the only thing I seem to be good at is making love with you -- we do that really well, don't we? But I did say I was going to do something for you, so please accept these words as a thank you. I love you, Ronald Billius Weasley, and even though sometimes I speak without thinking, I'll never say I love you and not mean it. Um, okay…so here is my attempt at a poem - please don't laugh.

We've been the best of friends here at school  
And we've lived through breaking almost every rule  
We were a pair before being joined by a third  
She was the bossiest thing we'd ever heard.

We were lucky when we escaped imminent death  
It sometimes seems it was the work of an empath  
We loved each other more than we knew  
Now that she's gone, we don't know what to do.

I'm sorry he took away everyone you loved  
It's so not fair; why did he have to steal my blood?  
I brought him back to life, then I killed him again  
It was my destiny, I hope it wasn't a sin.

I love you my friend, my lover, my everything  
I want us to still be together in the spring  
I don't know why you love me as you do  
But please don't ever stop or I don't know what I'll do.

Love, Harry

~*~

"Harry, be sure Ron takes a potion every four hours, and don't forget that he needs to drink something afterwards."

"Yes, Madam Pomfrey."

"How are you feeling? You're looking much improved. I do hope you're not overdoing it."

Oh, if she only knew. "I feel okay; Ron took really good care of me."

"That he did, Harry. I would have never imagined the two of you as you are now, but I couldn't be happier for you or Ron. That young man is good for you. Don't let him go, ever."

Harry gave Madam Pomfrey a funny look, wondering what she was going on about, but then smiled. "I'd be a right fool to let him go." With a small smile, he left the hospital wing and headed back to Ron.

Walking up the stairs, he looked around and frowned at the stillness that surrounded him. Hogwarts seemed abandoned, well not really, but the area around Gryffindor Tower saw little traffic these days. Most of the students were living in the dungeons where the Slytherins' made their home, but Harry had not wanted to be around anyone other than Ron, and being who he was, he and Ron were allowed to remain in Gryffindor Tower.

Climbing through the portrait hole with the potions and pumpkin juice, Harry made his way to his and Ron's room, hoping Ron hadn't woken yet because he would be needing a potion. Hearing a sneeze, he hurriedly pushed open the door, but closed it quietly when he noticed Ron was in bed. From the sound of things, he wasn't feeling good. Throwing all but one of the potions on his bed, he went and sat beside Ron, who was staring up at the window. "Here, take this."

Ron downed the potion and pumpkin juice, and then closed his eyes. "I hate being sick."

Yeah, Harry did as well. He made to get into bed with Ron, then saw the letter lying on his pillow. He picked it up and placed it on the bedside table, then climbed in and pulled the covers over him and Ron. "You need sleep."

Ron snuggled into Harry and placed his head on the smaller chest. "Thanks for the poem."

"You liked it?"

"Yeah. I can't believe you wrote those words to me."

"It wasn't easy, but everything I said was true."

Ron lifted his head and studied Harry's face. Yeah, he knew Harry loved him, but the depth of the words Harry had written were so much more than love; they reminded him of a love letter he had once found that had been written to his mum from his dad. He knew his parents had been in love with each other; they had never hidden that fact from their kids. "Do you think this will last?" Ron returned his head to Harry's chest and smiled as Harry clasped their hands together.

"Huh?" Harry was wondering if Ron had really read what he had written.

"You and me. Are we gonna be together, or is this just something we do at school?"

"I meant every word I said, Ron. I don't ever want to lose you, and I'll love you forever."

Ron nodded before he sneezed. Now he understood how Harry's nose had gotten so red -- these blasted tissues were going to be the death of him yet. "Who knew that I had managed to pull the resident poet of Gryffindor Tower? I already loved you, but gah, that line about Hermione -- gah, Harry, you made a bloke cry, you git. The old Harry would not have been able to express his feelings that way."

"Um, and is that a good thing?" Harry really wasn't sure. This new way of his was such an odd contradiction to how he had looked at life not so long ago. Although he and Ron never talked about it, they both knew they were not the same two boys who had come to Hogwarts six years earlier. Truth be told, they were not even the same young men who had begun sixth year. So much had happened, and those two boys had withdrawn, never to be seen again. Not so many months ago, Harry had felt fearless, and he had believed that he was strong and could face whatever life threw at him. His parents and godfather had been killed and he had survived those things, so surely nothing else in life could derail him, right? Wrong! All it had taken was a senseless explosion that took just about everyone he cared for to make Harry realise how wrong he had been -- he wasn't strong, and he wasn't sure of himself, anymore. After all, had he listened to his friends and professor, he might be sharing this room with four Gryffindors' instead of one.

"Yeah, it's a good thing." Ron reached over Harry, picked up the parchment again, and looked at it in wonderment. "Harry," Ron said, his eyes meeting Harry's and daring the other to look away, "you're different now. The Harry of last year would have never written these words. You were my best mate then. I never realised how much you were going through. I just didn't want to think about it, you know? Here's my mate, Harry Potter, and he has to kill a mad man…nope, I just didn't want to think about it, so I didn't. Then Dumbledore died, and then the explosion. When you finally woke up, you were so different…so sad, and so far away. I wanted you back so bad. I wanted my best mate, and he wasn't anywhere to be found. I needed you…the old you, but then the new you clung to me and made me feel needed, and then we fucked each other and decided we wanted to do it again. Harry, I fell in love with you. I don't know if the old you and I would have ended up like this, but I'm so happy with you. I love that you can make me cry. I'll fight with you if you try to get me to talk, but I'll love you forever for being the kind of person who loves me enough to tell me how you feel with a poem."

"Ron, the old Harry…he won't come back. Are you okay with that?"

Ron laughed nervously. "Have you been listening to me? I like the Harry who tells me how much he loves me, and how sexy I am, and how good I am in bed, and how--" Then he sneezed, one of those that hurts every bone in your body. "I wish the potion would work; my head is starting to hurt again."

Harry made himself comfortable and then pulled the covers over him and Ron. "Close your eyes."

~*~

Harry returned to the bed and kissed Ron before feeling his forehead. "You look worse than earlier."

Did he have to state the obvious? "What did McGonagall have to say?"

Harry frowned as he handed Ron another potion. "She wanted us to have tea with her this evening. I told her you had the flu, and she said she was aware of that, but since we never bother to let other people into our lives these days, she didn't know how ill you were. She says when you are better, she will expect us for tea."

Ron took the phial, downed the potion, and drank the pumpkin juice Harry handed him. "That should give us a few days then. I really don't want to talk to her or anyone else."

Harry sat down and shrugged his shoulders. "I don't think we have a choice, but it'll be okay. She won't make us talk about it."

That was the problem, wasn't it? "Yeah, I guess you're right." Ron picked up the letter from Harry. "Will you read this to me?"

Harry took the parchment and got comfortable beside Ron, leaning on an elbow. "You're really going to make me do this, aren't you?"

Ron lifted his head and kissed Harry. "Please?"

How could he not when Ron looked so pitiful? And so adorable. He scooted over and put his head on Ron's chest and opened the parchment.

_Ron, _

  
Harry looked up at Ron, and received a small nod.

  
_We've been together for almost six months and I want you to know how happy you've made me. Thank you for not giving up on me when everyone thought I was going to die_

  
Harry paused but did not remove his eyes from the parchment.

"Go on." Ron began running his fingers through the messy hair. He knew he was asking a lot of Harry.

Harry nodded.

  
_It means so much to me, knowing you were there. I have tried and tried to come up with the perfect gift to thank you for everything, but I am crap at drawing and writing. About the only thing I seem to be good at is making love with you -- we do that really well, don't we?_

  
"I couldn't resist adding that."

"Mm yeah, we make love really well together. We're a perfect fit, you and me."

  
_But I did say I was going to do something for you, so please accept these words as a thank you. I love you, Ronald Billius Weasley, and even though sometimes I speak without thinking, I'll never say I love you and not mean it. Um, okay…so here is my attempt at a poem - please don't laugh._

  
Harry stopped and looked around the room at the other beds…empty beds.

"Harry, I would never laugh at anything this serious."

  
_We've been the best of friends here at school_  
And we've lived through breaking almost every rule  
We were a pair before being joined by a third  
She was the bossiest thing we'd ever heard.

  
Harry laughed. "She was bossy, wasn't she?"

"Yeah, Hermione was a right little know-it-all."

"Yeah, she was." Harry missed her; he missed her not allowing him to feel sorry for himself. If she was here, she wouldn't let him sulk. Returning to the parchment, he grinned.

  
_We were lucky when we escaped imminent death_  
It sometimes seems it was the work of an empath  
We loved each other more than we knew  
Now that she's gone, we don't know what to do.

I'm sorry he took away everyone you loved  
It's so not fair; why did he have to steal my blood?  
I brought him back to life, then I killed him again  
It was my destiny, I hope it wasn't a sin.

  
That was the hardest part of all of this. He had lost so much, and at times, he hurt so badly he didn't think he could go on. Yet he had taken another life. What right had he had to do that? He heard Ron beginning to speak, so he hurried on, not thinking he could make it if Ron said anything.

  
_I love you my friend, my lover, my everything_  
I want us to still be together in the spring  
I don't know why you love me as you do  
But please don't ever stop or I don't know what I'll do.

Love, Harry

  
Harry set down the parchment and took a deep breath before pushing himself up and turning himself around so he was looking at Ron. "Happy?"

The huge grin on Ron's face was answer enough. He pulled Harry to him and kissed him. "Hermione would be the first one to tell you that bastard deserved everything he got. I'm sorry you had to do it, but I'm not sorry he's gone." Ron kissed Harry again. _"I don't know why you love me as you do, But please don't ever stop or I don't know what I'll do."_

"I could never stop loving you, Ron."

"Thanks, Harry."

~*~

 

_"Ron, Harry is not in his right mind, and you know that. He is going to go after You-Know-Who. I'm scared for him. I just hope he hasn't done anything stupid without us."_

"Professor Lupin has been helping him with Defense, Hermione, you heard him. Harry hasn't left Hogwarts since we did."

"Yeah, I'm just worried; it seems so eerie with the Order members walking up and down the corridors. You don't think anything will happen, do you?"

"No, Dad said they aren't taking any chances, is all. Mum does look a bit worried, though. I'll be glad when we get to Hogsmeade."

"So will I."

  
A sneeze woke Ron, and as he sat up and blew his nose, he realised he was shaking, but he was thankful the sneeze had awakened him when it had. He had relived that moment far too often. Looking to his right, Harry was sleeping, not a care in the world. Ron tried to clear his mind, but he knew it was not going to work. Instead, he laid his head on the pillow and turned towards Harry, scooting as close as he could to him. He needed to talk about it, but he couldn't. It hurt too much. Closing his eyes, Ron let the tears fall. He had held them back, but not tonight -- tonight he was going to grieve.

~*~

Harry opened an eye and wiped away a tear when he saw that Ron was finally sleeping. It was so unfair. He wanted to help Ron, but he didn't know how.

~*~

"You look like you could use a bath; maybe it will help you feel better." Harry stood up from his desk chair, walked over to the bed, and looked down at Ron. "It was one of the things that helped me."

Ron continued staring at the ceiling. "Yeah, that was rather fun when I bathed you; I can't believe you let me do that," Ron said as he turned to look at Harry. "You were really out of it. I know I'm not doing that great, but whatever I have is nowhere near as bad as what you had…thank Merlin."

"Yeah well, I am Harry Potter. I don't do anything just halfway, do I?" Harry smirked as he sat on the bed. "So how about a bath?"

Ron sat up and groaned as his head pounded. "Yeah, okay. Is it time for my potion yet?"

"No, you have another hour, and Madam Pomfrey said you can't take it before it's time."

Ron fell back on his pillow. "I don't know which is worse, my nose or my head. I guess I should be happy I haven't been sick yet."

"Yeah, that's something. Okay then, let's get you in the bath."

"Sounds good to me. I've been missing that cute little arse of yours, and I want to see it."

Harry turned around and wiggled it in Ron's face. "Oh, so now we get to the real reason. You just want to see me naked."

Ron smirked. "Mm, yeah."

Fifteen minutes later, Ron was leaning his head against the edge of the bath and breathing in deeply for the first time in a couple of days. Eyes closed, he listened to Harry, who was making far more noise than one person should be able to make in a bath when they were not doing anything of a sexual nature. "What in the bloody hell are you doing?"

Harry swam up to Ron. "Just doing some laps. Are you feeling better?"

"Yeah, I guess. I can breathe, so that's good."

Harry retrieved the flannel from the tile, and wet it. "May I?"

"Yeah." Ron allowed his arm to be lifted, and smiled at the feel of Harry bathing him. What had he done in his life to deserve Harry? Nothing that he could think of, but he would work every day to keep him. "Um, I had a nightmare last night about the explosion." Bugger. He hadn't meant to say that.

Harry was about to rinse Ron's arm, but he let the flannel drop into the bath. "Yeah, I know. Tell me about it."

Ron bit his lip, and he knew he was shaking. He really did want to talk to Harry, and maybe he would feel better afterwards, but he doubted it. "It was horrible, Harry. The screams…the screams. I couldn't move, and Hermione, sh--she jus--I watched as she fell. I can remember someone calling my name, but I don't know who it was. I think it was Tonks, but I'm not sure. That's the last thing I remember."

Harry nodded but wasn't sure what he should say. He had waited so long for Ron to talk to him about this, and he didn't want to bugger things up now. There was so much that Ron wasn't telling him. "Is that what you dreamt about?"

"Hermione and me, we were talking about you when it happened. I woke up before it-- before it all went to hell. I hadn't dreamt about that day in a few months. I'm afraid to go to sleep now. I don't want to see her face again, not like that. I can't do it, Harry." Ron then went under water and came up, wiping the water from his face.

"I'll go ask Madam Pomfrey for some _Dreamless Sleep_."

"Thanks. You know? I don't know why I'm still here. I know some of the other students survived as well, but why me?"

Harry got out of the bath, sat on the edge behind Ron, and began massaging his neck and shoulders. "Because you had to take care of me and because it wasn't your time."

Did he really believe that? "And it was Hermione's time?"

This was about as uncomfortable as Harry had ever been. "Yeah, Ron, it was. Hell, it could have been you, and it could have been me. We almost died that day, but for some reason, we didn't. I hate it, us being here and her not, and I hate you and me being here and your parents not. I want so badly to go back in time, but we can't."

"Yeah, I know, but it hurt, you know? It hurts to know that they all hurt when they died. I try not to think about it, but I can't help it. I wonder how much--"

"Don't, Ron, don't."

"It hurt so bad, Harry. I've not ever felt pain like that before."

Harry stilled his hands. "Move forward a bit so I can get in." He slid in behind Ron, wrapped his arms around Ron's stomach, and locked their hands together and held Ron as he slid down so his head rested on Harry's chest. "Let it go. Let it go, Ron. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere."

~*~

It was once again snowing outside, and Ron found himself staring out of the window, looking at Hagrid's. Harry spent a lot of time there as well as in the Pumpkin Patch; it seemed to calm him. Ron wished there was some place that would calm him…well, some place other than Harry's arms -- they always calmed him, and there was nowhere else Ron would rather be, but he needed another outlet, something else he could depend on when he found himself descending into that thing Madam Pomfrey called melancholia. Madam Pomfrey had given both him and Harry a lecture about it, telling them she would not interfere with how they were dealing with what had happened as long as they were doing okay. She knew they weren't okay, but thus far, she had not intervened. Ron was happy about that…he really was. He had finally talked to Harry, so maybe things were going to get better. He hoped so.

"What are you thinking about?" Harry set down the parchment that Hedwig had just brought him, and looked at Ron, wondering what was going through his mind. At least he was looking better since the bath; maybe Ron's talking about what had happened would help. Harry hoped so.

"Just thinking about Hagrid. How's Fang?"

"He's okay. He misses Hagrid, though, I can tell. He seemed happy to see me today; he drooled all over my trainers. I guess that's my thanks for not going out to see him while I had flu."

"So what does this year's letter say?" Ron turned to face Harry, and lowered his legs from the window seat.

"It's the same letter that was posted in the _Daily Prophet_, saying that Hogwarts is going to reopen in April with a limited timetable, and the list of books is also included."

It was odd, but Ron felt a peace come over him knowing that in a few weeks Hogwarts would reopen, and the students…

Ron paled and suddenly felt faint. "Harry, I don't know how I'm gonna buy my books."

"I'm sure that has already been taken care of, but if not, don't worry about money. I'll get your books and other things you need."

Ron couldn't help the tears that fell. He was an orphan, and he had no money. He was alone. "Harry, I don't know what to do." Ron was proud. He had never had much. He had always had used-books and hand-me-down clothes. Nevertheless, he had always had what he needed and had never had to ask for anything from anyone. How could he now depend on others? "I can't take money from anyone else or you."

~*~

 

Ron sat on the Quidditch Pitch. He knew he shouldn't be outside; it was freezing, but he couldn't be bothered to care. Any feelings of happiness about Hogwarts opening were now gone, replaced by the worst sort of dread. He didn't know what to do. He had been avoiding Harry, Madam Pomfrey, as well as Professor McGonagall for the past four hours because he knew what he'd be told, and he couldn't bear it. True, he didn't want to think about leaving Hogwarts, but to accept money from anyone would be unthinkable.

Hearing the unmistakable sound of footsteps crunching through the snow, he briefly glanced up and shook his head as he turned away from the approaching Headmistress. Couldn't they just leave him alone?

"Mister Weasley, I suggest you return to the castle immediately unless you do not mind Madam Pomfrey restricting you to the hospital wing. You are looking quite ill."

"I'm okay, I just had to get away and think."

"Hm yes, and the Quidditch Pitch buried in ice and snow is the ideal spot for thinking, is it?"

Standing, Ron began walking towards the castle, ignoring Professor McGonagall. Once inside, he turned to face the sullen-faced McGonagall; he knew this conversation wasn't over.

"Before you take your leave, I need to speak to you. We can either speak here, or in my office."

Wonderful. Just what he wanted to do…talk to the Headmistress. Well, there was nothing to be done for it, so he sat down on the bench inside the entrance hall and stared ahead, not really looking at anything.

"Ron, I am afraid I have woefully neglected you and Harry, and that was a mistake. If you don't talk about what happened, you will never be able to move on."

It seems his and Harry's respite was over. "I don't mean any disrespect, really I don't, but I don't want to move on. I don't ever want it to be okay. It'll never be okay. But that's not why I'm upset, and if I know Harry, and I do, then I think you know what is bothering me."

"He is worried about you, Ron, and yes, I do know what is bothering you. There is no need, however, because you will remain here at Hogwarts, Mister Weasley. Provisions have been made."

All Ron wanted to do was go lie down and forget. "I'm not going to let Harry pay for me to go to Hogwarts."

"Who says it is Harry?"

"You don't have to. Who else could it be?"

"There are numerous organizations who have come together to make certain the students at Hogwarts are able to remain."

That didn't make Ron feel any better. "But, Harry…he's the one…isn't he? It's him." He was attacked by several sneezes in a row and after he blew his sore nose, he realised his head was once again hurting. Bugger.

"Is it time for your potion, Mister Weasley?"

"Um, yeah, but I don't have it with me."

"Accio Mister Weasley's flu potion and a pumpkin juice from the kitchens."

"You're gonna tell me to let Harry pay for my books, aren't you?" Ron was going to lose this battle.

"As I said, it is no--"

"You are going to do what you want no matter what I say, so why even ask? No one ever asks what I want, except for Harry." Yes, Ron was being irrational, but he didn't care. He didn't want to talk about this to anyone.

"What do you want, Mister Weasley?"

Ron glared at the Headmistress and sneezed. Bugger. If she didn't know what he wanted, she was daft. Wasn't it obvious what he wanted?

"Your family is gone, Ron -- they're gone. I desperately wish it weren't the truth, but it is. I do wish you and Harry didn't have to face all of this, but it seems to be your fates that you do."

Ron shrugged his shoulders again as he looked up and watched his potion and a flask of pumpkin juice float towards him. He grabbed both and downed the potion before taking a few swallows of the juice.

"_Evenesco_. You should go get some rest before you catch Pneumonia. Don't forget that as soon as you are feeling well enough, I expect you and Harry for tea."

Ron groaned. It was almost indiscernible…but not quite.

"You and Harry will not do anyone any favors if you go into lessons with all of this rage within you waiting to be released. I will not allow either of you to put anyone at risk.

He should take his leave and go to bed, so why was he opening his mouth to speak? "We've done alright; why can't we continue as we have?" Ron wasn't asking anything unreasonable, was he? Six months had gone by, and thus far, he and Harry had not had to talk to anyone; why change now?

"Mister Weasley, my being the Headmistress has kept me busy, and has not afforded me the time to help you and Mister Potter as I would have preferred to, and for that, I apologize. My students deserve my undivided attention. Professor Dumbledore would have dealt with the two of you to the exclusion of everyone and everything else, and as exasperating as he could be at times, his heart was always in the right place. I am not him, but it is my intention to strive to be a Headmistress worthy of succeeding Albus Dumbledore. I am quite serious about helping Harry and you."

~*~

"Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I ask you a question about Snape?"

Harry had almost been asleep. Turning over, he studied Ron's face, and nodded.

"If he wouldn't have died, do you think the two of you would be friends?"

That was a good question. Would they? Harry pondered the idea for a few seconds. "No, probably not." It was difficult for him to understand, so how could he explain it to Ron?

Ron was confused. At times, he had the impression that Harry and Snape had had an intimate relationship, and then there were the times such as this when Harry seemed almost detached when speaking of Snape, as if he could care less about the man.

Harry began speaking again a few seconds later. "I have tried forgiving him for what he did to Sirius and Dumbledore, but I'm not so sure I ever will. It is strange; those last two days Snape needed my help and I gave it to him. He was so helpless, and for the first time ever, someone was depending on me without having asked for my help. It made me feel a bit needed, you know? He needed me; he didn't want me for what I could do, and he didn't ask me to do something I couldn't. Hell, he even asked me to let him die for the longest time. It wasn't until he was about to go that he got scared. I've never felt so helpless, Ron, but in a way, it made me stronger, and protective. I promised him after he died that I would make sure people knew he was not bad." Harry closed his eyes as he moved his head to rest on Ron's chest, his hands reaching for Ron's. "He was like me. No one seemed to want him, and the people who did didn't know what to do with him."

~*~

After retrieving the memory, Ron watched as it dissipated into the contents of the Pensieve. Professor McGonagall had sent it to him and had asked that he use it. He had vowed not to, but here he was. He briefly smirked when he recalled his last visit in this very Pensieve, and then carried it up the stairs into his and Harry's room, where he set it down on Harry's desk.

Walking over to the bed, Ron leant over and studied his sleeping lover. Yes, Harry was feeling better, but Ron knew Harry's body was still recovering. After watching as Harry smiled in his sleep, Ron decided against joining him in the bed. He went to the window seat and sat down, not looking at anything, but thinking about everything. He fell asleep.

~*~

"Checkmate."

Ron looked down at the chessboard, then up at Harry, his face a myriad of emotions. "You won."

"Um yeah, 'cause someone was not paying attention." Harry sat back in the chair and smirked.

"You won. You've never beat me before." There was more than a little disbelief in Ron's voice.

"Yeah, I know." Harry was quite proud of himself, even if the only reason he won was because Ron was distracted. "Potter is the King!"

"Oye, your singing is ghastly." Ron was sulking. How could he have lost…to Harry? Yes, Harry was good at many things…exceptional at a few that came to mind, but chess? Chess had always been Ron's, and Harry was pants at it…usually, that is.

"Aw did I hurt my little Ronnikins feelings? We could always play again."

"Maybe tomorrow." Ron glanced at the Pensieve again. "I need you to see something."

And this would be why Ron had lost. Harry had watched Ron looking over at his desk for the last hour, and he had known from the first sighting of the Pensieve that whatever was in it was not _snow porn._ Dread ran through him, although he couldn't understand why. Why was Ron looking at him like that? "Can't you just tell me whatever it is?"

"Nope."

Short and curt, and to the point. "Why?"

"Bugger, Harry, don't do this, just say you'll look at this memory with me."

Damn. "Yeah, okay."

Harry watched as Ron stood and walked over to his desk. Why did he have the feeling something was about to change? When he finally made his way to the desk, his hand was grasped.

"Ready?"

"I guess so."

  
_Next thing Harry knew, he was on the Hogwarts Express and he was watching as Ron was talking to his dad._

  
"Dad, where is Harry? I thought you said he was going to be here with Professor Lupin."

"We decided he was safest at Hogwarts."

Harry noticed how nervous Ron's dad looked, and he could see that Ron noticed it as well.

"Dad, is everything okay with Harry?"

"He's in good hands, Ron. You should go back and sit down; we'll be arriving in about an hour. I'm going to go check in with your mum."

"Okay."

"Ron, it's going to be okay. We wouldn't allow anything bad to happen to Harry."

Harry next found himself in the hospital wing. He could see himself lying in a bed, and Ron was in the bed next to him, his eyes closed. Scanning his eyes around the room, he saw Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall standing in the corner talking, and the Headmistress looked quite upset.

"Poppy, do you realise how close we came to losing Harry? If Severus hadn't returned, Harry would have been on the train."

"Are you saying he returned to keep Harry here at Hogwarts?"

"That is exactly what I am saying. He really did have a heart attack, but he only returned because he knew something was going to happen. He didn't know what, but he knew Voldemort was targeting Harry, so he returned to keep him safe."

"But Minerva, how do you know this? We all thought Severus was good, but he killed Dumbledore. What makes you think he was protecting Harry?"

"He spoke to me regarding certain events I am not at liberty to divulge, but after he died, I received this."

Harry watched as Professor McGonagall handed Madam Pomfrey a letter, and listened as it was read aloud.

"Minerva -

If you are reading this, your wishes of long ago have been realised, and I am dead. You once told me you would never trust me. Would it frighten you to know I never trusted myself? No matter. What has been done cannot be undone. This letter is in your hands now because of a certain young man. I swore an oath to protect Harry Potter, and I have done so. I need you to know why I, Severus Snape, would ever do such a thing. You will never think me worthy of redemption, and if you must know, I gain no joy in that knowledge. There have been two women whom I have admired in my life; one is you, and as you may or may not have guessed, the other was Lily Evans-Potter, Harry Potter's mother. She and Remus Lupin were the only students who did not openly shun me, and that fact has never left me. My sins have been many, and I no doubt deserved whatever fate befell me, but their treatment of me, while not always innocent, was worthy of my thanks.

As you know, it was my youthful idiocy, as well as my yearning for acceptance that led to my providing Voldemort with the information regarding the prophecy. When I realised what had been done, I made an oath with Hogwarts, vowing to do whatever it took to ensure that Mister Potter remained safe once he arrived.

All through his first year, I resented him for what he had made me do, because I knew how it would end. I hated him. I wished him dead, but then that would bring about my death, as well. My hatred of him continued until last year. He was involved in a situation I will not divulge here; it is not important any longer. What is important is I finally realised Harry Potter was no more or no less who I had been as a student. He hadn't deserved my hatred, and in fact, he deserved my understanding and help.

I had kept my vow over the years, but it was at this moment when I decided to change my attitude towards him. I cannot and will not divulge how I protected him and helped him because it is between Harry and me, and is none of your business.

I have written you this otherwise pointless letter because whatever I was or am, I am a man of my word. I did what I said I would do. I protected Harry when no one else would. Yes, there was the vow; it was always there, but what was not there until the last few months was my feeling of protectiveness over him. He would never understand it, but he was the only person to bring out the part of me that might have one day allowed me to be happy.

So, there you have it, my final words. Please do not waste any thoughts on what you or anyone else might have done differently for me, or for Harry. We do not need your pity or fallacious words of sorrow. What Harry does need is your help. If you do nothing else in your life, help him.

Your Servant,

Severus Snape"

  
Harry found himself sitting on the floor, his hand still in Ron's. Maybe he had spoken too soon; perhaps he and Snape would have been friends.

~*~

 

Despite what he and his former professor had gone through over summer hols, It was easy for Harry to be angry with Snape. His parents…Sirius…Dumbledore…all killed because of the Death Eater (once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater). Whatever else he may or may not have done, he had contributed to each of these deaths. True, he might not have sent the _Killing Curse_ to Harry's parents, he might not have sent Sirius through the veil, and he might not have been the one who wanted to kill Dumbledore…but he was responsible, nonetheless.

Harry would surely be forgiven if he never forgave Snape, right? Even though he had grown close to the man, closer than he had ever intended, did that mean he should not hate the man? Yes, he had fought to clear Snape's name because that was the right thing to do. He had defended the man fervently. He knew what was right; he just hadn't thought he could make his heart ever forgive.

Maybe now he had.

Time heals a lot of wounds they say.

The letter seemed to be the final _piece_ and _peace_ Harry needed. It was time to let go, and it was time to accept that it was okay to forgive the one person other than Voldemort whom he had hated -- the world was not going to end because of it. He still had many unresolved emotions where Snape was concerned, and it was an almost overwhelming revelation that he might want to let go of the past, but it was one Harry had desperately needed.

"Ron?"

"Yeah?"

Harry finally turned towards Ron and allowed a slight smile. "Thanks for that. I think I needed to know what Snape thought of me."

"Yeah, I thought you deserved to know his feelings. Snarky bastard that he was, he really did care for you. I'm sorry he had to die, really I am."

Harry scooted closer and used his left hand to turn Ron's face towards him, then he kissed those purplish-pink lips -- it wasn't long nor was it brief -- it was perfect. "I love you."

"Hmm, love you, too, Harry."

Harry moved Ron's fringe away and ran his fingers through the damp hair. "You're running a temperature. Up you get. From now on, you are not leaving this room unless it is to go to the hospital wing. I've not taken care of you properly, and I intend to change that now. Now in the bed with you, young man."

Ron stood up and rolled his eyes. He almost said something about Harry changing the subject, but thought better of it. Harry had been through enough and if he didn't want to talk about it anymore, who was Ron to make him? "But I don't want to go to bed; I'm not sleepy."

"Oh no, you are not going to get away with batting those eyelashes at me, not tonight."

"You're no fun. Lavender always fell for my boyish charms."

"Yeah, um, I don't think there was anything boyish about what she fell for if what I saw was any indication. You practically mauled one another; it was rather revolting, actually."

Ron made his way to his bed and sat down, taking off his trousers. "I'm irresistible, what can I say?"

"You were a sodding fool is more like it. I'm rather surprised Hermione still took you on after that." Harry sat on the other side of the bed and used his wand to remove his clothing, with the exception of his pants. "Remember to keep on your pants. Don't think I didn't feel you rubbing up against me last night."

Ron grumbled as he fell back on the bed and pulled his pants back on. "You are insufferable."

"Am I a git?" Harry turned and smiled widely.

"Um, mate, don't even. I can accept you and Snape had some weird relationship, but no, don't make me think of him…please. I might be sick."

Harry laughed. "Snape really got to you, didn't he?" Harry joined Ron on his pillow and kissed him on the nose.

Ron wrapped his arms around Harry and brought him down for another kiss, this time on the lips. Harry pushed him away, and Ron stuck out his lip. "Well, he got to you, too, but yeah, I guess I can understand why he and you seemed to get on in the end. I guess he had a crap life; I never thought about it until I overheard Madam Pomfrey reading the letter that day."

Harry began playing with Ron's hair and glared when Ron ground into him. "Yeah, I really did hate him for what he did to Sirius and Dumbledore." Harry sat up and looked towards the window. "But he helped me kill Voldemort. I called him a coward, Ron. I was such a git. Even though I didn't take any of his advice, he still helped me. It's so weird. You didn't see him that day. Not the day he died, but the day he appeared to me on the Quidditch Pitch. He knew the end was coming…he had to have known. He looked at me with those black eyes, and with that look that said he hated me, and he told me to keep practicing. It was only a second, but I saw him asking me, Ron. He wasn't telling me to do it, he was asking me to. I don't think I ever saw him vulnerable before then, and even when he was dying, he didn't look that lost. What a prat I was."

"So you didn't do what he said. You're not the first person who has ever not listened to a teacher. It worked out though. Like I said, I wish Snape hadn't died. You could use someone such as him in your life. He could help you, and you'd let him."

Harry returned his head to the pillow and turned to look at Ron. "Yeah, I would. Um, I think it's time for your potion."

Ron kissed Harry and reluctantly pulled away and found his potion in the bedside table. After he took it, he turned back to Harry. "That potion makes me sleep way too much."

"Yeah, well, you need rest."

"I need you."

Harry grinned. "I know. My body is just too irresistible; it's a curse." Harry lifted himself and then settled himself on top of Ron, resting his head in the crook of Ron's neck. "Behave, or I'll go to my bed."

Running his fingers through Harry's hair, Ron smiled as he placed a kiss on his finger and then touched Harry's scar. "I'll try."

"Night."

"Night, Harry." It wasn't going to be easy to fall asleep with Harry lying on him, his cock poking through and teasing his thigh, but this was about as comfortable as Ron had been since the flu had sapped him of all of his energy. He wrapped his arms around Harry and stared at the ceiling, thinking of all things…how much grief Fred and George would have given him for ending up with Harry. "Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"Hermione would be happy for us, wouldn't she?"

What was this about? "'course she would. I think she thought there was something more to us, at least on my part, as it was. I mean, you were the one I'd miss the most, more than Sirius, even -- Hermione wasn't stupid."

"Yeah, but I didn't know I fancied blokes; it was a shock, you know?" Ron felt as Harry laughed, and wrapped his arms tighter around him. "I mean, Lavender and Hermione had things you don't, things I rather liked. Who knew I'd find something I liked more?"

"Yeah, well, it wasn't exactly anything I was aware of, either. When you stuck your cock up my bum is when it occurred to me that I might like blokes, but then I thought maybe we were just having some fun and comforting each other, which we were. It wasn't until you asked me if you could kiss me that I realised there was something there. Then when our lips met, I didn't want to let you go."

"Yeah, Until I kissed you, I didn't want to be here. There was no reason for anything; I felt dead." And he had. Ron began rubbing circles on Harry's back.

Harry lifted his head and rested it on his hands as he looked at Ron. "But now we have each other." Harry leant up and kissed Ron, then rested his head on his hands again. "I'm happy. There's been so much that's happened, and I don't know that I thought we'd last, but for some reason, now I do. I want us to last, Ron."

"Me too. I've been thinking, and I think--I think I want to go to the Burrow, Harry. I need to go, yeah?"

Where did that come from? Harry wasn't sure, but he wasn't upset -- this is what Ron needed to do. "Yeah, I think you do. Want me to go with you?" Harry rolled off Ron and sat up, and watched as Ron did the same.

"Yeah, I'd like that, you going with me; I can't do this alone. I know that we'll live at the Burrow after school, I mean if you still want to live together then, but I just feel like Mum and Dad would want me to face it, so yeah…I'm gonna face it."

Harry smiled and kissed Ron. He felt closer to him in this moment than he ever had before, and he wanted to do more than kiss, but per his own words, Harry wouldn't. "We'll talk about it in the morning. For now, you need sleep, and as comfortable as your chest is, we both know you'll be getting no sleep with me pressing into you, but I'd really like to fall asleep in your arms."

Ron yawned. "Yeah, I guess I am a bit tired. Come here." Ron fell back on the pillow and turned on his side, then helped position Harry in front of him, smiling as the smaller body pressed into his. He was now assured of a restful night's sleep. "Maybe tomorrow I will feel better; I'm tired of feeling like this."

Eyes shut, Harry nodded as he slid his fingers through Ron's. "You'll feel better soon, but it'll be a while before either of us are back to feeling good." Harry thought about what he had said. "Um, but I think maybe tomorrow if you are feeling better, maybe we can spend a little more time in bed…um not sleeping." He then squeezed Ron's hand as his face morphed into a huge grin. He wished he could see Ron's expression.

Ron felt as the news reached his cock, and grinned. "I think I'd like that."

"Thought you might. 'Night, Ron."

"'Night, Harry."

~*~

 

Harry yawned as he stood in front of the window, the first vestiges of dawn beginning to show the outlines of the mountains and trees. It was rare that he was up at such an early hour, but with so much on his mind, it was hard to sleep…well that and Ron's snoring. He stared at the medal he was holding.

Snape's Order of Merlin. It would have meant so much to Snape. All he had ever wanted was to be appreciated, or so that was the impression Harry had gotten. Looking over at his own medal, which he had given to Ron, Harry wondered what he should do with Snape's. There wasn't anyone else who wanted it, so Harry guessed he would keep it because he wouldn't risk anyone else destroying it, which would happen if Umbridge ended up with it. It was sad, really -- the man who had done so much for the Order meant nothing to anyone…well, almost anyone. He meant something to Harry, even if that still confused him more than he thought it should.

Harry walked over to Ron's desk and set the medal next to his own. He had killed Voldemort…and he was a hero…and he had saved the wizarding world. It was enough to make him sick if he thought about it too much.

Looking over at Ron, Harry frowned. No one had given Ron anything. He was no one special to the ministry; just another _unfortunate orphan_ is the name _they_ had been given in the _Daily Prophet_ a few days after the explosion. All that mattered to the Ministry was Voldemort had been killed. It was sad and unfortunate that so many innocent students had been killed, but it was a casualty of war -- _an inevitability_ is what Umbridge had called it.

Picking up his own medal, Harry smiled as he read the inscription he had added, remembering the shock on Ron's face when he had given it to him on his birthday. Ron had sat there staring at it forever it seemed, but then he had hugged Harry, saying they would indeed do great things together. Setting the medal next to Snape's, Harry ran his hands over both, and then turned to look at Ron again. It was funny how things worked out. A year ago he would have never believed that he'd be so protective of two Orders of Merlin and one Ron Weasley.

Harry yawned as he climbed back in the bed and situated himself, and when Ron's arms wrapped around him, Harry smiled as he closed his eyes and let the snores lull him back to sleep.

When he next opened his eyes, the room bathed in light, Harry noticed two things straight away. One -- he was no longer wearing his pants, and two -- there was something wet working its way down his bum. It was the best feeling ever…anytime Ron did anything to him it was the best feeling ever. As wonderful as this felt, Ron's sneezes and coughs throughout the night had not been indicative of a Ron who was well enough to do this yet, so Harry pulled away.

"We probably shouldn't do this."

"Please? I feel fine, really, I do," Ron said as a bout of coughs took over.

"Um, no." Harry retrieved a phial from the bedside table and waved his wand. A second later, he handed Ron the phial and pumpkin juice.

Frowning, Ron downed the potion and took a few sips of the now tasteless pumpkin juice. "But you said…"

Yeah, Harry knew what he had said. "Yeah, I said we could do more than sleep, I know, but you sound horrible and I won't help you get pneumonia."

"Fine. I'm going back to sleep. See if I try to wake you up that way again!" Ron turned over and pulled the duvet over his head -- sodding flu.

Ron slept on and off the rest of the day, and he hardly spoke to Harry. He knew he was sick, but Harry had said…

~*~

There is a lot that can happen in twenty-four hours: the flu can go from making a person feel like they want to die, to having run its course and leaving. Fortunately, this was what the day and night had done for Ron, and the person who opened his eyes the following morning felt so much better. Perhaps he had been too hard on Harry…he would have to make it up to him, and there was no time like the present.

With a wave of his wand, he removed Harry's pants, and his breathing increased -- this day no one was going to stop him from what he wanted. Sliding down underneath the duvet, Ron licked Harry the length of his crease. He didn't receive any response, so he then began placing love bites on those pale cheeks. Ah now he was getting results, and the lovely bum was now squirming and there were vocal declarations of Harry's love of all things holy. Ron grinned as he lifted his head to admire his work.

"Are you well enough to be doing this? Because you know if you look like you did yesterday, I'll leave you to take care of your problem by yourself." That sounded quite depressing. Harry turned over on his stomach, and then he felt as the duvet disappeared, the cool air sending a slight shiver through his body.

"I am feeling bloody brilliant and was about to make it up to you for being such a prat yesterday. Is that alright with you?"

Harry lifted himself with his arms and turned over. "Let me see you." He laughed when Ron looked at him, looking every bit the image of someone who had been rather enjoying himself. "Hm, you do look better. Let's just hope you do not sneeze while you are down there." Ick - that was not something Harry looked forward to, even from Ron.

Ron resumed his position and began teasing Harry's entrance, but a few seconds later, Ron found himself underneath Harry.

"I think it's my turn." Harry then lifted himself so Ron could shift into position.

Ron soon wore a goofy grin. Who was he to argue? He was in position within seconds, leaning on arms, his bum in the air and his legs spread out as far as he could make them go. "I've missed this."

Harry smirked. "Me, too. I'm going to make you scream for me to fuck you, Ron."

"And I will." Ron's breathing had already sped up. Damn, he needed to blow his nose. "Um Harry? Could you please hand me a tissue?"

Harry leant over Ron and handed him several tissues. "Here."

Ron picked one up and blew his nose hard; it was amazing all the junk that was still coming out. After the third blow, he felt that maybe he would be okay for a while. He hoped so because he wanted to enjoy what was about to happen. "Hurry up," came out in a whisper.

Crawling in between Ron's legs, Harry positioned himself and then leant down to have a small taste. He could feel the shaking beneath the cheeks he was holding open, and he began hearing moans. When he broke through the opening, he didn't waste any time with teasing, he dove in with everything he had. Harry had a smaller than average cock, but he had an amazingly long and agile tongue, and he loved to work Ron with it. It was sinful what his tongue could do…sinful and wonderful!

After several minutes, when he felt his balls tightening, Ron began whimpering and speaking incoherent words.

Harry stopped his movements. "Tell me if this hurts."

"Okay."

Harry moved both hands to Ron's legs at their uppermost point and lifted him. He heard Ron mutter some words and knew he had cushioned his head and arms. Now Harry could really have fun. He dove in again and began a brutal pace. It had been far too long for him -- he had missed the feeling of being tongue deep in Ron, saliva running down his face, the smell of Ron wafting up his nose. He was still unable to smell or taste much of anything, but Ron he could smell…and he knew he'd be able to taste him, as well.

Some time later, after many cries of _fuck me_ and _you're a god_, from Ron, Harry grunted and pushed in with a bit of extra energy and had Ron shooting his come onto the sheets, the pearly white mixture pooling in little piles as Ron changed the aim as Harry continued to pound into him.

Harry heard Ron breathing rather loudly, and it seemed to bring him back to the present. He lowered Ron, crawled to the foot of the bed, and smiled. "How was that?"

Ron couldn't speak for a minute or so. "It was bloody brilliant until you lowered me into my come." Ron rolled his eyes. "But I forgive you. I haven't come that hard in a while. What about you? You're poking me; want me to do something about that?"

"If you're up to it, I want to be inside you." Harry really wanted this. Yes, he loved being fucked…Ron's bum slapping up against his, that thick cock pleasuring him -- that was the height of ecstasy, but this…fucking Ron…well, it gave him another sort of pleasure. Since he was a might bit smaller than Ron, he tried to make up for it with speed, and he had never failed to bring Ron to orgasm while making love to him.

Ron saw the want and need in Harry's eyes, and yes, he was up to it. "Make love to me, Harry, please?"

"Spread your legs back out and I will." Harry grabbed the lube from the bedside table and ground his hips into the pale bum beneath him but within seconds decided he better stop before he embarrassed himself and came on top of Ron instead of inside him. When he had stretched Ron adequately, he slid in…it was the easiest slide home he had ever made. He smirked.

When he felt Harry entering him, Ron lifted his head and rested it on his hands as he began to buck up into Harry. "Harder, Harry."

"You want it rougher, Ron?" Harry pulled out, slammed back in, and somehow managed to find Ron's balls without stopping. He squeezed them and pushed in several more times, and then on his last thrust he bit into the small of Ron's back, drawing blood. He cried through his release, his mouth full of skin and blood, his body seizing. When he finally came back to himself, he began his assault on Ron's balls.

"Turn over."

When Ron was looking at him, face flushed, Harry leant down and swallowed Ron, and within seconds, Harry was swallowing all that Ron gave him, the hips beneath him taking on a life of their own. Lifting his head a few minutes later, Harry wiped his mouth with his arm but stopped when Ron shook his head. Crawling up and laying himself beside Ron, he moaned when a tongue began lapping up the white stuff on his arm. Then a few seconds later, he was kissing Ron, and it was one of their kisses that for them could last for hours, with only brief breaks so they could breathe.

Within the next two hours, Harry and Ron found themselves on the floor, on the window seat, Harry up against the window, Ron on the stairs going down to the common room, and then they ended their morning in the shower, Harry riding Ron. By the time that they returned to the bed, both boys were sore, and that hadn't happened in a long while. They had meant to stop, really, they had, but the bed had a few more rounds of hard fucking, with snot becoming an ever-increasing addition. Ron was getting too worked up, but neither boy could force themselves to stop…that is until Ron had his tongue in Harry and sneezed, spraying snot all over Harry's cock, balls, and stomach.

~*~

When they were in the shower, this time for cleaning purposes only, Harry was washing Ron's back when he noticed the bite mark which now was red and swollen. "Bugger, Ron, why didn't you say anything? This has to hurt, and to think where all we've been. I didn't realise I had bitten you so hard."

"It doesn't hurt too much, and it was worth it -- I always love our long mornings like this; we need to do it more often."

Harry went to get his wand and healed Ron's back. "We don't have too long before Seamus and Dean are back in here, so I guess we better get in our fun before then."

"Yeah. I'll miss us being alone, but it will be good to see them. It's going to be weird without Neville, though."

"Yeah."

~*~

Harry and Ron landed after their game of Quidditch, and began walking back to the castle. It was cool out, but spring was in the air. The trees were finally beginning to show the first signs of life, and there were more birds beginning to make their presence known. It was a new beginning for many things, and Harry and Ron seemed to sense this.

"Um, we should probably go see McGonagall after we eat, Ron; she saw us coming out here."

"Yeah, I was thinking about that. I'll tell her we are going to the Burrow. I'm starting to think I don't want to go, so if we tell her we are, we have to."

Harry stopped Ron and shook his head. "You don't have to do this, Ron. McGonagall is not going to make you go, and neither will I. This is completely up to you."

"I have to go, Harry; I don't have a choice. This is not going to go away."

Harry began to respond but shut his mouth when Professor McGonagall approached.

"I thought the two of you might be interested in hearing that Miss Brown will be returning; I received a letter from her mother. Lavender has recovered enough that she can now get around, and she wants to return."

Ron smiled, but it was a not completely happy one. He knew she had been hurt badly. "That's the best news. Is she okay?"

"She is well enough to attend Hogwarts, Mister Weasley."

After McGonagall left, Harry had one of those feelings of dread run through him. He had last felt it when he had heard that Remus had died in the explosion. He had a feeling Lavender was going to be vastly different from the girl she had been a year earlier.

"I heard she can't walk. She can't walk, Harry."

"Yeah, I know. But it'll be good to see her, yeah? Walking is so overrated. I'm just glad we're going to see her again." Harry didn't feel as confident as he was trying to sound. What would it be like when he saw her? Would she be the same?

"It's just so wrong. Not so long ago she and I were, well, you know what we were doing, and now, now she is paralyzed. It just doesn't seem real. But yeah, it's real. Yeah, I can't wait to see her. We have to stick together, you, me, Lavender, Seamus and Dean."

~*~

 

Looking around, Harry felt nervous -- not so much for what Professor McGonagall was about to talk to them about, but because he didn't much care to be in Dumbledore's office. No matter that Professor McGonagall now occupied this room, in Harry's mind, it would always be Dumbledore's office, and as such, it held far too many memories: burning Phoenixes, conversations with hats, meetings with potential killers, tantrums, journeys into Pensieves, and the most recent memory -- his meeting with Dumbledore before they left to get the Horcrux. How could he have known when he left this office that night that his life was about to change?

"Harry?" Sitting in one of the chairs across from the desk, Ron was nervous about what was about to happen; being forced to talk about what happened was not anything he wanted to do, but at the moment, he was more concerned with Harry. He couldn't be sure, but he didn't think Harry had been here since Dumbledore's death.

"I don't want to be here, Ron." Harry fidgeted in the chair and began wringing his hands. If he thought he could get away with it, he would leave.

Ron couldn't understand what Harry was feeling. Dumbledore had been a great Headmaster, and Ron had admired him quite a bit, but to him, Dumbledore had been just that -- the Headmaster of Hogwarts. A great man, yes, but a great man whom he had admired from afar. To Harry, Dumbledore had been a mentor -- someone Harry depended on to guide him.

Looking up, Ron smiled as Dumbledore winked at him from his portrait. It wasn't so much a shock, because Ron knew about the portraits, but seeing Dumbledore in a portrait seemed to make his death suddenly seem more real than it had when he had seen Hagrid carrying the lifeless Headmaster not so many months ago.

"Harry? Dumbledore, he's--" Ron stopped mid-sentence when Dumbledore shook his head.

"Yeah, I know, but it's not the same. He's dead, and he's not coming back." Harry turned his head and stared at Dumbledore, his face frozen in a frown.

"What is dead, Harry? Yes, I may no longer be physically presiding over Hogwarts, but do not think I am not here. I am but a portrait away whenever you need me."

All Harry could do was nod and then he turned back around. He was actually relieved when McGonagall walked in.

"Harry? Are you feeling well? You look pale."

"It's me, Minerva. If I am not mistaken, Harry is a bit uneasy being in this office."

Harry spun his head around and glared at the twinkling-eyed Dumbledore. "I am capable of speaking for myself, thanks." Harry then returned his attention to Professor McGonagall. "I don't want to be in here. Could we go talk somewhere else, Professor?" This was not going to work. He was so angry at Dumbledore, and that was an emotion he had never associated with how he felt about Dumbledore. What had changed?

"Harry, I think perhaps you and Professor Dumbledore need to talk, but first I must speak to you and Ron, and as this is my office, we will speak here."

Harry said nothing.

Ron looked in between the Headmistress and Harry. Perhaps it was time he said something. "Professor, Harry and I are going to the Burrow. If it is alright with you, I want to go tomorrow." There. He had said it.

"And you are certain you are ready for this?"

Ron shook his head. "No, ma'am, I'm not ready for this. I don't want to go. I don't think I can do it, but I've got to try. Harry, he won't let me do anything I am not ready to do. He'll help me."

"Very well. But Harry, you know what he can take, and what he can't. I am entrusting his well-being to you whilst the two of you are at the Burrow."

"He'll be fine, Professor. I'll be with him." Harry looked at Ron and smiled as he received a small nod. "We're in this together."

"I'm glad to hear it; that was the main reason I wanted to speak to you, Ron. There are other issues I need to discuss with you, but I think you have enough to be going on with for now, so we will meet again next week. Now, Madam Pomfrey asked me to send you to the hospital wing; if I am correct, she has a new potion for you."

In other words, Professor McGonagall needed to speak to Harry...alone. "Okay." Ron briefly smiled at Harry, then left.

Harry watched as McGonagall locked the door and placed a _Silencing Charm_ around the two of them. Uhoh -- this was going to be about Dumbledore. Harry sighed.

"Harry, Ron has made considerable progress, which I must say, I am pleased about. It does scare me, him going to the Burrow, however, I have no doubt it is what he needs to begin healing. Now, what I am wanting to know is, when are you going to begin facing what happened? You need to begin the healing process just as Ron is doing."

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "I've been talking to Ron about it. I told him about Snape, and he has told me a few things he knows, and it has helped, really it has."

"Harry, Professor Snape is not whom I am referring to."

Harry furrowed his brows.

"Harry, not once in the almost six months since you woke up from your coma have you ever mentioned anything about Remus. I know he thought of you as his godson after Sirius died, and because the two of you worked so closely this past summer, I am very much aware of how close the two of you were."

Harry glared at Professor McGonagall. Why was she doing this?

"Harry, It is indeed good to hear that you are dealing with Professor Snape, but you can't ignore what happened to Remus. Perhaps had I heard you speak of him, I wouldn't think there is a problem, but there is, isn't there? Harry, before he died, he told me--"

Bugger. Bollocks. Crap.

"Please…don't…I don't want to know." Harry squeezed his eyes shut. He knew he was whining like a little boy, but he didn't care. He had done well enough for the past few months, thank you very much, so why now?

"Harry, I can't possibly know what you are feeling. I am so very sorry that Remus had to die, love. Albus and I worried endlessly about you, but Albus knew as long as Remus was in your life, you would be okay. I need to give you something."

Harry shook his head. No. No. No. FUCK IT ALL. REMUS WAS DEAD! Six months, it had been six months. He couldn't take it. He couldn't deal with this. "Let me go, let me out, let me out, please let me go." Harry could feel the tears running down his face, and he could hear his sobs as they wracked his body. It hurt so bad…so bad. He couldn't breathe.

~*~

When Harry awoke, Ron was stroking his face, looking at him worriedly. "How did I get back here?"

"Professor McGonagall fire-called me and told me what happened, so I went to get you and brought you back here. You don't remember?"

Harry shook his head, but he didn't speak for the longest time. Finally, he sighed. "I guess you and she got what you wanted."

Ron slid under the duvet beside Harry and kissed him on the forehead. "I would never want to hurt you, Harry."

Harry felt cold and empty. Couldn't he just go to sleep and act as if none of this had happened? No -- there was no turning back. If he was so intent on helping Ron, he guessed it was only right that he face his own scary feelings. Harry took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself, then he looked at Ron. He could do this -- he would do this. Voice shaking, he spilled what he had to say out as quickly as he could, which wasn't quick at all because of him trying as hard as he could not to lose what little control he had over his emotions. "I don't even think McGonagall knows that Remus wanted to adopt me, Ron. I could have lived with him and Tonks. It probably wouldn't have happened because of him being a werewolf, but he did say something about it while he was helping me. Of course, just as with Sirius, it can never happen now."

Ron's tears fell down his cheeks and fell onto Harry's neck. He hadn't known. He had known there had to be something within Harry that needed to come out, but he had thought it all had to do with Snape and Dumbledore. Ron began running his fingers through Harry's hair. "She gave me a letter, Harry."

Of course she had. He didn't want to read it, but Remus had wanted him to read it. Bugger. "Would you read it to me?"

Ron nodded as he took the parchment from his trouser pocket.

  
_"Dear Harry,_

Please forgive me. If you are reading this, then I must be dead. There is nothing I can say to you, but you need to understand that you are so very special, Harry. You have lost so much in your short life, and it is not fair. I am afraid for what you might do now that I am gone. I am tempted to tell you to go find Professor Snape, but I am not quite that naïve. If you should ever want someone to speak with, however, he is the one you'll need to go to. He, Harry, will understand you.

Again, I am more sorry than I can say. You are your mother and father's son, and you are your godfather's godson. I am so very proud of you and regret that our time together was so brief.

Goodbye, Harry. Please never forget I love you."

  
Ron set down the letter, trying with everything he had to make his chin stop quivering, but he was having a difficult time doing so because it looked as if Harry was doing the same.

Harry picked up the parchment, looked at the ceiling, and shook his head. "I can't even go to Snape now. Gah this is so fucked up."

"Yeah, definitely fucked up. Sit up." Ron sat up as well and pointed to his lap, and within a second, Harry had climbed into it. Rocking back and forth, his hands wrapped protectively around Harry, Ron stared straight ahead. There was nothing to say. Words were inadequate, so he sat there, his silent tears contrasting with the wracking sobs of Harry.

~*~

Ron stopped a few steps from the bottom of the stairs and turned around, watching with a smirk on his face as Harry slowly made his way towards the top step. He tried not to, really, he did, but he couldn't help the laugh that escaped as he watched Harry carefully lift each leg to the next step. It was amusing. Of course, Harry would have to turn around and send him a glare, one that was eerily Snape-like.

"Excuse me if I am a bit sore. Your cock isn't exactly small, you know, and you rode me hard yesterday and this morning. So I'll thank you not to make fun of what is your doing."

"But, you told me you wanted it hard."

"Yeah, I did, and I'm not complaining. I'm just saying that's why I'm sore, and I would thank you very much not to laugh at my pain." Harry then resumed his slow trip upstairs.

When Harry made it to the top, Ron clapped. "I hear that the best way to get over soreness is to repeat the activity that made you sore." Ron grinned as he turned around to return to the common room, and he was hit by a pillow.

A few minutes later, Harry descended the stairs, maneuvering them much easier this time. "Okay, I'm ready, and why aren't you sore? I had you bent in half a fair few times, and I know for a fact you were having a rough time of it yesterday."

"Who said I'm not sore? I just hide it better than you." Ron picked up the pillow and threw it on the stairs.

"Git. Are you sure you want to do this, Ron?"

"No, you?"

"Not really."

"But I need to, so let's go."

Once they were outdoors in the cool and breezy March weather, Ron stopped Harry and proceeded to kiss his slow to respond lover until they were both gasping for air. He pulled back and sighed. "Sorry, you looked like you needed kissing."

"You are the romantic, aren't you?" Harry laughed and placed a kiss on Ron's nose.

"Do I have to be cock-deep within you to steal a kiss?"

Instead of answering with words, Harry pulled Ron closer to him and crushed their lips together, grinding his hips into Ron. Some time later, he pulled away. "Quidditch Pitch?"

Ron grinned and licked his lips. "Mmm yeah. Burrow can wait." Ron grabbed Harry's hand and began running.

When they had made their way to the center of the pitch, Ron ran his wand over him and Harry, placing _Disillusionment Charms_ on them so no one would stumble upon them. Within seconds, they were both naked, and Ron had a finger inside Of Harry, who was on his back with his legs in the air.

Harry rolled his eyes, rolled over to get his wand, causing Ron's finger to pop out, and then pointed it at his opening. Soon Ron's finger had found its way back inside and was sliding in and out effortlessly, and he added a few other fingers as well.

"Um, Ron, as much as I want this, my back can't take much more of this position."

Ron ignored Harry until he was finished stretching him. When he had removed his fingers, he looked at Harry. "Okay, turn over, rent boy."

Harry rose up and wrapped his arms around Ron, and began a kiss he had no intention of stopping. He soon found himself covered with Ron, and once his legs wrapped around Ron, pulling them closer together, Harry pushed Ron away. "I am rather expensive. How will you ever afford me?"

Ron let out a sound, but just what it was, he couldn't say. "You see, I don't have any money to pay with, but I can give you my body; would that cover your fee?"

Harry pulled Ron down for another kiss, and the two began rolling around, grinding into each other, never staying in once place longer than a second. When Harry next pulled away, he put his head on the ground. "That'll cover you for the rest of your life. So, I guess the only thing left is for you to tell me what you want. I aim to please."

"Mm, turn over and spread out your legs as far as you can."

Harry did as asked, but not without a few grimaces. When he felt the wand at this entrance, Harry pushed back and felt it impale him, and soon it was fucking him as it was releasing some sort of liquid inside of him, which began leaking out; he could feel it running down his arse cheeks. Then he felt the wand being pulled out, and a second later, he felt something huge entering him, even bigger than Ron's cock. That was saying something!

"Have you ever been fisted, rent boy?"

Harry couldn't speak if he wanted to. Damn. How in the hell could a fist fit in there? But it did, and despite a bit of discomfort, Harry was determined to love this. Ron had taught him a lot, and Harry had learned to love it all. This would be no different.

"Feel good, does it? I like my rent boys pliant, and I find that this is the best way to do that." Ron was barely holding on. The little noises coming from Harry was completely undoing him. "Okay, I am going to pull it out and push back in."

Harry tried nodding; he knew Ron didn't see it. When the fist pulled out, it was so similar to Ron's cock, and Harry was giddy for the return trip, even though he knew it was going to hurt like hell.

Ron shoved his fist back in. "Turn your head so I can see you." Ron could see the sweat pooling around Harry's forehead and neck, and he saw the pain in the face. "Should I stop?"

Harry managed to shake his head.

Ron withdrew the hand. "Close your eyes."

Harry did so.

Ron found his wand, and a second later, shoved his cock into Harry. He could immediately tell the difference in Harry's face. Where it had been full of discomfort earlier, now it was peaceful looking. "Like this, do you?"

"More. Harder. Fuck me. Make love to me, Master."

"Very well, my little pet." Ron began a slow pace, but instead of following Harry's orders, he kept it slow and easy, reveling in the feel of just feeling himself inside of Harry. He grabbed his wand again and with a pop, he and Harry left the Quidditch Pitch and ended up in his bed at the Burrow. Once he felt the bed beneath them, he increased his movements. Soon, the bed was banging up against the wall, and Harry was panting. When Ron came, he screamed, stilling his body as it spasmed. When he came back to himself, he moved his hands to Harry's balls and penis, and cupped them. "Come for me, Harry." Ron then caught everything Harry had to give, in his hands. Once he was sure Harry had been milked completely, he felt as Harry lifted up, and Ron brought his hands to his mouth through Harry's legs. Come still dripping, Ron lifted up and shoved his tongue inside of Harry, but he removed it a few seconds later. "Shower."

Harry laughed when he stood up. "Sorry. I wasn't expecting you to fuck my arse before we got back, or I would have prepared myself. And I guess you are all clean?"

Ron grinned. "Yeah." He was always prepared. He threw Harry a towel. "Care if I join you?"

"Mm that sounds fun."

Ron winked. ""S what I was thinking."

~*~

Once Ron had washed Harry properly, he shoved him against the wall and had his tongue inside Harry's arse. He could hear Harry moaning and begging for release. He then pulled back just enough so he could fit his hands between Harry's legs and place his hands over the cock and balls. Then he pressed them as hard as he could, bringing Harry's body closer to his. His tongue went in a bit deeper, and he felt as the come came out over his hands, and watched as it mixed with the water and headed towards the drain. Ron then stood up and impaled Harry with one push. Harry had not completely come down from his orgasm yet, so there were screams and moaning bouncing off the walls. When Ron felt himself stiffening, he stilled his body and allowed them to ride out the orgasm leant against the wall, water spraying over them, taking their come to some distant place.

Once they recovered, Ron removed himself from Harry, and kissed the neck in front of him. He found a flannel and began washing Harry from foot to head, taking his time to worship each part of the beautiful body. When he reached Harry's upper thighs he kissed the little hole and then turned Harry around and washed the rest of Harry as they faced each other.

Ron ran the flannel around Harry's earlobe, cleaning the dirt, and then he dug a finger in and pulled out a glob of earwax. "When was the last time you washed your ears?"

Harry smiled one of his huge 'love me' smiles. "I believe that would be a few days ago. It seems to me the last few showers have had you cleaning me, Mister Sunshine."

"Hm, bad Ron. Leaving his Harry with dirty ears. We must remedy that straight away." Harry's ears were soon cleaner than they had probably been in the last six months. "Okay, you are all clean now."

After Ron said nothing for more than a minute, Harry got the impression Ron was trying to ask him a question, but couldn't. "Do you want me to get out?"

"Yeah, you probably should. I am tempted to fuck you again. If you stay in here, I'll keep making excuses."

Ron tried to smile, and it reminded Harry so much of the boy whom he had met almost seven years ago at Kings Cross. He looked so unsure of himself. "I'll be in your room." Harry kissed Ron on the lips, careful not to allow it to deepen, then stepped out into the cool air.

~*~

Opening the door from the bathroom, Ron wrapped the towel around him, although there was no need, but habits were hard to break. He turned to his left and descended the stairs until he reached the ground floor. Looking around, he noticed how still everything was. Never before had the Burrow been so void of activity.

Entering the sitting room, Ron sat on the sofa and picked up the copy of the Daily Prophet that was folded to the second page. No doubt, his father had been reading it before he left. There was yarn on the coffee table, and a phial of potion on the chair his mum usually sat in. It looked like the stuff Bill was using on his wounds to help them heal. Standing, Ron made his way to the kitchen. He did not want to do this, but he did. His eyes traveled to the clock that was once again on the wall. There was only one hand on the clock -- his. Pointing his wand towards it, a black shroud soon covered it. Ron didn't want to be here, so he returned to his room.

"See you found some clothes."

"Yeah, a bit big, but they'll work. Are you ready to go downstairs?"

Ron sat on his bed beside Harry and shook his head. "I'm the only one on the clock."

Sadness was not something Harry dealt well with. "I'm sorry, Ron. Look, maybe we should go. We can come back tomorrow or later."

"No, this is my house. It is my responsibility now, so I guess it needs to be cleaned. Mum had it cleaning every day. There's a lot that needs doing."

Harry nodded and stood. "Okay, then, we clean."

Ron stood up, removed his towel, and went to his chest of drawers to find something to wear. Finding a pair of old jeans, he removed them and then walked to the wardrobe for a shirt. "Do you think we should go ahead and clean out the cupboards and drawers? I'm sure there are students at Hogwarts who could use the clothes, and the school robes will be needed. What do you think, Harry? They aren't doing anyone any good here. I think Mum and Dad would want their things to go do people who could use them." Ron turned around, wondering why Harry hadn't replied or stopped him from blathering on, as Harry called it. Harry was staring at him, tears running down his face. Shaking his head, Ron glared. "You can't cry, Harry. You can't. You're going to be strong, and you're gonna help me because that is what I need. Okay?" There, he'd said it.

Harry wiped his face on his sleeve and cleared his throat. If that is how Ron wanted it, then that was how it would be. "Okay." This wasn't good. Harry understood all about denial and not facing things, and yes, he was even quite adept at doing it himself, but he had thought coming to the Burrow would be what Ron needed to face what had happened. Clearly, he had been wrong. "I think your Mum and Dad would be happy to know they could help the students at Hogwarts."

So they cleaned. A few Doxies had made their home the sitting room curtains and there were an assortment of other little creatures throughout the house. They even had to get rid of a few Boggarts, Harry taking care of them to prevent Ron from seeing his dead mum. Dementors were scary, yes, but they were nothing to seeing a parent who was never going to return.

When they had finished with the sitting room, they began cleaning the upper floors, Harry in the bathrooms and the Twins old room, and Ron, the others.

Harry was pointing his wand at the bathroom, cleaning the walls when he heard a scream. Running up the stairs, he ran into Ginny's room, where he thought the screams had come from, but there was no Ron in there. "Ron? RON!"

Harry frantically ran into the other rooms, and then ran upstairs to the other rooms, but no Ron. "Ron, can you hear me?"

"Outside."

Harry heard Ron, but it was faint. He ran downstairs and outside. There Ron was, sitting on a broomstick. "Bloody hell, Ron, you scared me to death."

"Sorry; I found Bill's broom and when I went to sit on it, it yanked me out the window. Mum's invention. She never did like us flying in ths house," Ron said, a slight smile on his face.

"And here I thought you were in trouble." Harry tried to return his breathing to normal.

"You try sitting on something and finding yourself pulled out a window with no warning. Nearly pulled off my arm, it did."

"Want me to kiss it and make it better?"

"Yeah, I do, but we need to finish cleaning."

Harry sighed. Nothing. Ron was showing no emotion whatsoever. Damn him. "Fine, I'm going back inside." Harry tried not sounding frustrated, but he was.

"What's wrong? Look, Harry, you can leave any time you want to."

"I don't want to leave, okay? I told you I would help you. It's just not easy. They may have been your family, but I loved them too, you know." Harry walked back into the house and slammed the door. He hadn't meant to be so cross with Ron.

~*~

Ron returned to his cleaning: scrubbing the walls, cleaning the floors, and removing clothes from the drawers, wardrobes, and cupboards. He walked into his parents' room last and began removing clothes, thinking how he would rather be anywhere besides here. When he was going through his dad's things, he couldn't help but laugh when he came upon a yellow duck…a rubber duck if he recalled the name correctly.

It didn't take long before he had all the clothes boxed up. Harry had been stacking boxes at the top of the stairs, and Ron took his and placed them beside the others. He could see Harry in the bathroom packing the contents. Merlin this was far too surreal.

"Harry, I'm finished, so I'm gonna go downstairs and start doing the kitchen," Ron shouted as he started down the stairs.

"Okay." Harry finished up and then carried the boxes down stairs before returning to the Attic. Everything from upstairs had been boxed up. It looked so empty and lonely. Even Ron's bedroom, which hours earlier had been filled with two screaming boys, was now bereft of anything remotely resembling life. "It's never going to be the same, is it?" There was no one to answer.

Returning to the kitchen, Harry stopped in the doorway. Ron was sitting at the table, staring at the clock that was in his hands. When Ron looked up and motioned Harry to approach him, Harry did.

"Look."

Ron turned the clock around and there were now two hands on it…his and Ron's, and it said they were home. Harry smiled. Yes, they were home. "You did that?"

"Yeah. It seemed right. Mum would want it that way. You were always a part of our family; now it's just official." Ron stood and placed the clock back on the wall. "Well, we should get these clothes to Hogwarts."

"Yeah." Harry wasn't happy. This had not gone at all how he thought it would. He knew Ron hardly ever cried, but he should be crying now, shouldn't he? He had lost his entire family and had just packed up most of their clothes. What was he that he could do that and not be upset?

Harry shrank the boxes and put them in the cloak Ron had given him, then he and Ron walked outside. Harry began walking but when Ron didn't follow, Harry turned around. Ron was looking at the Wellington's that were lined up outside the door. Harry watched as Ron picked one up and threw it across the garden. Harry sat down; he figured this might take a while. There was nothing he could do but be there when Ron needed him. Ron needed to get rid of his rage, and if throwing Wellingtons would help Ron, Harry would sit and watch.

"Is this what you wanted to see, Harry? Did you want me to lose control? Are you bloody happy now?" Ron picked up another and threw it, his face red with rage. It must have been his dad's, because Ron took the other and hugged it to him. "Why did you have to leave me, Dad?" Then he threw that one, as well. When they had all been thrown, Ron turned around and walked to Harry. "Let's go."

~*~

 

His eyes rolling back into his head, Harry's hands held onto Ron's hips as he rode out his orgasm, his fingernails clawing the skin beneath them. Ron was shaking and talking, but Harry was too far gone to be able to discern just what was being said. He lowered his head, careful not to touch the sensitive cock beneath him, and tried to catch his breath. "You okay, Ron?"

"Mm yeah. I want to do that again."

"Yeah, me too." Harry breathed in deeply, the smell of sex mingling with a myriad of other outdoor scents that marked the beginning of spring.

They were once again on the Quidditch Pitch; there was something about making love in the outdoors in plain sight that made it all the more thrilling. They had stopped using the _Disillusionment Charm_ days ago, and except for Kreacher, no one had stumbled upon them. Leave it to Harry's evil little house-elf to pop onto the pitch. Thankfully, for Harry and Ron, Kreacher had to do what Harry said, and when Harry demanded Kreacher never mention what he had seen, not even Bellatrix Lestrange could have pried the juicy tidbit from Kreacher, much to the house-elf's dismay.

Harry crawled up Ron's body and began playing with the hard nipples. "That was brill. We need to do that more." Harry then kissed Ron's lips, then his nose, then his eyelids, and then he returned to the lips before lifting his body and sitting facing Ron. "How do you think Lavender is going to be with you and me being together?"

Ron was looking at Harry's cock, thinking how minutes earlier it had been rock hard and inside of him. Ron reached over and stroked it a few times. He loved the feel of it in his hands, and in his mouth, and oh yes, in his arse. "I dunno, but she'll probably be fine with it. I mean, it wasn't like she and I were going to be together forever or anything. I wasn't the only bloke she was with."

"Yeah, but still, it's going to be a bit odd."

Ron turned on his side and shook his head. "Are you worried that I might want to be with her again? She probably isn't going to be interested in doing anything like that anyway. You heard what Professor McGongall said this morning."

"She is going to be working with someone to get her strength back, but that doesn't mean she can't have a boyfriend."

"I know what you are going on about, and I can't believe you are worried about her. Just so you know, I don't seem to be into girls these days. I am happy with you…very happy, thank you very much." Ron took the hardening cock in his hand, wrapped his fingers around the base, and began working it.

That certainly made Harry feel good….oh so very good. Harry moved closer to Ron and opened his legs further. "But I am the only one who has been around you for six months, so you really can't say we would have gotten together if there had been girls around."

True. Ron squeezed the cock and smiled. "Neither Hermione or Lavender had one of these. I find that I've grown rather attached to this." Then Ron lifted his hand and touched Harry's cheek. "Neither of them were you, Harry. We don't know what would've happened if we hadn't been so close for these past six months, but we have been together, and you are the one I chose, and you are the one I choose."

What Ron said meant everything to Harry. He was the only one in Ron's eyes …just as Ron was the only one in Harry's eyes -- and speaking of -- those eyes were threatening to release tears again. Harry wished he didn't cry at the drop of a hat these days. He wiped roughly at them, and then leant over when Ron lifted himself with his free hand. Then they were kissing, Ron playing with his cock again. Harry pulled back and smiled. "Just so you know, I choose you, too." Then they were kissing again, and then they were doing other things again.

~*~

Turning over, Harry opened his eyes. Ron hadn't come to bed…again. Over the past few days, Ron would leave mid-afternoon and not return until late at night. Harry had his suspicions where Ron was going, and if he was indeed going to the Burrow, then Harry was happy, but if he wasn't, where was he going? Finding his wand, he saw that the time was one-thirty. Sleep was not going to happen, so he got up and went down to the common room, where he started a fire. Sitting before the fire, Harry stared into it, the events of the past few days, even the last six months, trying to drive him mad.

It was a good thing Hogwarts was reopening, and it was even better that Seamus, Dean, and Lavender were going to be returning. At least some things would be the same, although they wouldn't be at all the same, would they? For one thing, Harry was with Ron now -- that was going to be a shock for Lavender, and it might be a bit uncomfortable for Seamus and Dean since they would be sharing a room with Harry and Ron. Then there was Lavender -- she had been hurt badly. She had almost died. Would she be the same talkative girl from last year? Harry thought not. Ron wasn't the same as he had been, and Harry wasn't the same, either. Whoever said change was good, was wrong, Harry mused. He was beginning to hate change.

An hour later, Ron came through the portrait hole.

"What are you doing up, Harry?"

"Woke up and you weren't there. Couldn't sleep."

Ron waited for more, but nothing else was said. "I'm here now. Let's go to bed." Harry rarely talked to him now except when they were in the midst of sex, which was often, yes, but they seemed to forget to talk when one of them did not have their cock up the other. Ron wondered if this was how it was when people decided they didn't want to be together anymore. Ron wanted to be with Harry.

Harry shrugged his shoulders as he stood and followed. When they reached their room, Harry slid into bed and turned on his side. "Night."

Ron sat on the edge of the bed as he took off his clothes. "Night." Ron then stood and got in the bed, but not five minutes later, he sat up and looked at the back of Harry. This was ridiculous.

"What in the bloody hell is wrong with you? No matter what I do, you are not happy, and I am tired fucking you to get you to talk. Bugger, Harry, you are driving me mad!"

"Then go. I don't want to be your pity fuck, which I seem to be."

"Talk to me, Harry."

We'll talk tomorrow, Ron."

Ron had always been so patient with Harry…and he had done so willingly. But not tonight. Enough was enough. "Oh no we won't. We are gonna talk now, and you are going to tell me what your problem is."

Harry sat up and turned towards Ron. "My problem?"

"Yeah, your problem. I thought I was making some progress, and I guess I thought you'd be happy for me. Instead, you sulk and walk around like nothing has happened. Fuck you, Harry. It took me six months to face the Burrow. Just so you remember, I was near death when my family was murdered. I never got to say goodbye. I never got to see them again."

"I don't think I'm likely to forget that, Ron. Remember, you are not the only one who lost someone that day." Harry was furious. "I miss them too, you know."

"Then act like it, damn it." Ron's face was red. If he could cry, he might try to do so now. How dare Harry.

"What are you going on about? What was that the other night when you read me that letter from Remus? What did I do? Did I deal with it? I thought I did. What about me telling you about Snape? I am so fucking tired of dealing with it. I just want it to be gone. I don't want to deal with it, but I am, damn it." Harry got out of bed and walked to the door.

This was so wrong. All of it. "Harry, look at me." This was going all wrong. Didn't Harry understand that what they were going through should be making them want to be closer rather than farther apart? "Don't you see? You don't like it when I get onto you about how you are dealing with things. Can't you understand that you are doing the same thing to me? Hell, I know I have a long way to go. I am so fucking mad right now. How dare my family leave me behind. It is so unfair. But damn it, Harry, give me a fucking break. Do you want to know where I went tonight and where I've been going the other nights? Fine. I went to talk to Mum and Dad, Ginny, Fred, George, Percy, Charlie, and Bill. It's hard, but I made myself go, and I'll keep going back. I think I've found some sort of peace talking to them. You should go--"

"I can't do that, don't even ask." Harry closed the half-open door and returned to the bed. Closing his eyes, Harry shook his head, knowing he was wrong. Ron was doing the right thing. Ron was dealing with everything, perhaps not the way Harry thought he should, but he was dealing with it. Harry wasn't, and he didn't understand why? Why was he so angry? And who was he so angry at?

~*~

"Mr Potter, Mr. Weasley, please come to my office, immediately."

"Yes, ma'am." Harry looked at Ron, who was still staring at the fire. "What do you think she wants?"

"Dunno. Prob'ly she wants to make sure we're doing okay."

"Yeah, which I think we both know we're not. I've been thinking about what you said to me last night. I was thinking about talking to Professor McGonagall." Yes, he was serious. "It couldn't hurt, right?"

Ron smiled. "I think that would be good, yeah. I know she is trying to help, and I'm grateful, really, I am, but I think that someone should have done something sooner. You and I have been by ourselves, and what do we know?" Ron had always hated being the youngest -- everyone telling him what to do. He had always wanted to be the one doing the telling. Now there was no one to tell him what to do, and he was beginning to realise that he needed someone to do just that. Perhaps he wasn't as grown up as he thought.

Harry stood. "We should go." When they made it to the corridor, Harry stopped and looked at Ron. "I think she feels bad about leaving us alone. I heard Kreacher talking to one of the other elves when I went down to the kitchen this morning. He was saying that he had been told to keep an eye on you and me, discreetly, of course. I know she doesn't know what to do with us. Hell, what would we do if we were her and had to deal with us?"

"Retire."

~*~

"Come in, Mr Weasley, Mr Potter."

Harry entered, followed by Ron. "You wanted to see us?"

"Yes. Please have a seat."

Ron looked at Harry with a worried look on his face. Professor McGonagall sounded serious. When he and Harry were seated, he let out his breath, and tried smiling when Harry grinned at him, but he was sure nothing similar to a smile surfaced.

"I have asked the two of you in here to discuss what happened almost seven months ago, and I have invited Mr Eldridge to this meeting because he works with depression and other similar disorders on a daily basis. His wife graduated from Hogwarts twenty years ago. Can I depend on the two of you to listen to what we have to say, or am I wasting my time?"

Harry turned to look at Ron, and his eyes met blue ones that were bobbing up and down. Harry returned the nod and looked at the two adults sitting across from him and Ron. "We'll listen."

"Very well. I'll begin with you, Mr Weasley. It is the opinion of both Madam Pomfrey and me that you have begun to emerge from Post-Traumatic Stress Syndrome. She has done some research on it, and with the help of Dr Eldridge, she has told me that your progress has been slow, but steady."

Ron nodded as he twisted his hands in his lap, and became nervous when the man opened his mouth.

"Mr Weasley, you have a long way to go, but from what your Headmistress and Madam Pomfrey tell me, you made a huge leap the other day. You are most definitely suffering more than Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome, but if you can continue to make progress, I think you'll be fine. I would very much like to schedule a time for us to meet each week -- of course if you and Mr Potter prefer, I could meet with the two of you together.

Ron almost shook his head, but then he remembered Harry's willingness and how hard it must have been for him to admit he wanted help. "Yeah, that would be good. I don't want to meet without Harry there." Ron didn't look at Harry; he didn't need to.

"Very well. My secretary will get back with Professor McGonagall later this week, so I'll let the three of you decide when will be the best time to meet. Now, I only have one question for you today, Mr Weasley. How are you feeling?"

Ron swallowed. His hands were sweating. What in the hell was he supposed to say? "I don't know, really. My parents, they're gone. How am I supposed to feel?"

"You are supposed to feel the way you feel. There is no wrong way to feel, Ron. What is important is that you face what you are feeling. As you well know, time is not going to make this okay. You can get to a place where you can function, but you will never be the person you were before."

He had known this…really he had…but he had hoped…he had hoped. “I feel like—” Ron looked over at Harry. "I feel like a Dementor sucked the joy out of me. I feel like I'll never be happy again."

Harry had hurt so much over the past few months. He missed so many people. What he wouldn't give to have one minute with them again. But seeing the sadness in Ron's face was worse than all of everything Harry had ever experienced. How was it that Harry had been so selfish? He felt awful. This was what he had wanted to hear…he had wanted Ron to talk more, but it was so much harder than he thought it would be.

"I am going to ask that you write down your feelings on paper. Perhaps write a letter to your family telling them how much you miss them. You don't have to show this to me, Mr Weasley -- this is for your own use, unless you want to share it."

"Okay." Ron looked at Harry and sighed.

Harry looked up at Mr Eldridge. He didn't think he could talk yet. "Please don't make me talk." Harry watched the exchange between Mr Eldridge and Professor McGonagall, and he felt bad. She was visibly upset.

"I won't ever make you do anything, Mr Potter. Now, I think the two of you have had enough of my probing questions today, but I should warn you both that once we begin our weekly sessions, they will not be easy. I cannot force either of you to attend, but I implore the both of you to do this. Life must seem bleak at the moment, but there is joy to be had, Harry and Ron, and if you allow yourselves, you can lead a happy life."

A happy life. That is what Harry wanted. It is what he had always wanted. He wanted a happy life with Ron. He tried to nod.

Ron's life had always been happy…until six months ago, that is. He knew his happiness was not going to ever be as carefree as it had been, but maybe things could be okay, and maybe he could be happy. He wanted to be happy with Harry. He bit his lip.

~*~

Harry knelt in front of the headstone and stared at the words engraved on the stone. This was supposed to help him? Ron said it had helped him. All it did for Harry was make him want to run and hide. Seeing Remus's name on a stone did nothing to abate his grief, and seeing Snape's name set him off and he was near tears...again. He had known this was a bad idea. "Ron, I want to go." Weak. Harry was weak, and he knew it.

"Yeah, okay." Ron knelt down and lifted Harry. "Hold on to me." Within a second, they were at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

"I'm sorry, Ron. I tried, really, I did."

"I know. It's okay. You'll go when you're ready." Ron wished he knew how to help Harry. There was something inside Harry that needed to come out, but Ron was at a loss as to how to help him.

"I don't think I'll ever be ready. I can't stand seeing their names. They should not be dead. He wanted me. He wanted me, Ron. That is the reason they were killed." Harry took off towards the pumpkin patch. Normally, Ron would leave him be. The pumpkin patch was one of Harry's comfort places, and it did seem to help him, but this was not a time to leave Harry alone. He was being irrational, for one thing, and for the second thing, Ron loved him. That was reason enough, yes?

Ron walked up to Harry, not trying to disguise his footsteps. "Harry?" Ron knelt beside Harry and wondered what he should say. "Please talk to me."

Harry's chin was quivering about as much as it could without him crying. Damn the tears. And there Ron was and he hardly ever cried. "Why can't you cry, Ron?"

"What?"

"You cried the other day when I held you in the bath, but it wasn't enough."

Ron saw Harry's tears, and he knew what this was about. Yeah, he did wonder why he couldn't cry, but blokes weren't supposed to cry. He hated when others saw him weak "And who are you to tell me when enough is enough?"

"'Cause I cry all the time, and it isn't enough. It'll never be enough, Ron."

Well, at least Ron was understanding a bit more now, although it made no sense. "Gah, Harry, why must one cry to show emotion? If you can never cry enough, then why start? It isn't going to accomplish anything…not really. It is okay for you because I think it helps you, but it doesn't help me. You've helped me more than you will ever know, Harry. I might not be reacting the way you think I should, and maybe one day it will all hit me and I'll cry, but for now, I am dealing with this the best way I know how. I just want the hurt to go away."

Harry turned to face Ron and shook his head as he wiped his tears. "I don't think it's ever going to stop, Ron. I never even knew my parents, and I miss them every day. I know it's nothing to the pain you are going through, but it is pain all the same. And Sirius…I can't even talk about him, as you can tell, without getting upset, so yeah, the hurt isn't going to go away."

Ron bit his lip and nodded. He didn't know what to say or do to make him or Harry feel better. "I don't know what to do to make it better."

 

~*~

 

The first scheduled meeting with Mr Eldridge had been both successful and frustrating. Ron continued to progress -- reliving the final moments before the explosion, and talking about how he felt when he heard his parents and other family members had been killed.

In contrast, Harry seemed to be standing against a barrier, one that wouldn't allow him to move forward. He was trying, and everyone wanted to help him as much as they could, but unless Harry wanted to move forward, it was unlikely that anyone else would make any real difference. He had spoken briefly about Snape, but then his eyes had taken on a glassy appearance and he said no more.

For the last few days Professor McGonagall had called Harry into her office, forcing him to talk to her, and despite his unwillingness to talk in his therapy sessions with Mr Eldridge, he did talk with McGonagall. He told her how he should have been killed that day, and he told her how much he loathed himself when he was with Ron, because he was the one responsible for Ron being without a family now.

Professor McGonagall contacted Mr Eldridge and told him all future meetings would only be with Mister Weasley.

~*~

He fell onto his bed, the medal in his hand, and studied it closely. Turning onto his side, Harry set down Snape's Order of Merlin and closed his eyes. What was it about Snape that confused him so much? He thought he finally was beginning to understand, and he wasn't sure he liked what he was beginning to understand. Surely he would remember _that_. Yes, he had helped the man when he was dying, and Snape had helped him. That was nice and all, but it didn't add up to him having these really confusing feelings as if he needed Snape. There was something else…there had to be something else, but _how_? Closing his eyes, Harry fell asleep, but not for long.

"Harry?"

"Huh?"

Ron sat on the bed cross-legged and looked down at Harry, who hadn't opened his eyes. What a pair they made. "We need to talk."

"Sleep. Can't we talk later?"

"That's all you do."

"You can join me."

Ron shook his head and gathered his resolve. He was becoming frustrated because he was finally doing what Harry had wanted him to do, but it seemed the better he got, the worse Harry was becoming. "You can lie there with your eyes closed, but I am going to talk, and you are going to listen to me." Ron waited for some sign that Harry had heard him. A brief sight of green eyes was all he needed. Taking a deep breath, he began.

"You are my best mate, Harry. We've been through a lot together, you and me. Even after I acted so horrible to you when your name came out of the Goblet of Fire, you still considered me the one you would miss the most. I never acknowledged how much that meant to me, but it meant everything. I mean, I don't know that anyone else would or could say that about me, not even my family. This is probably going to sound mad coming from me, but knowing that we are more than friends now is like waking up on Christmas morning. It's like all the good things in my life happening to me every day. I don't know how I could make it without you. But, Harry, I'm trying. I'm trying so hard to deal with what happened. You can't know how much it hurts. Talking about it…I can't do this. I can't deal with what is happening to me, and deal with your inability to deal with what is going on. I just can't, Harry. I feel like I am going mad, and I don't need that." Ron finally stopped. And he watched Harry, watched as two green eyes opened wide, watched as Harry opened his mouth.

"I guess that's it then. Six months. It's more than I thought I'd have." Harry said nothing further and closed his eyes.

Ron opened his mouth a few times but couldn't talk. This wasn't supposed to be how it ended. He stood up and mouthed _I love you, _to Harry, then left the room and went to Professor McGonagall's office. She had told him and Harry her office was always open if either of them wanted or needed to talk. Ron needed to talk.

When he was seated across from her desk, Professor McGonagall looking at him worriedly, six months of everything collapsed on him -- smothering him, and he couldn't take it. He cried. He was weak; he was not supposed to be doing this. He hated himself. Yet there was nothing that would stop the tears, so Ron didn't try. He was tired of trying. He had cried over his parents and family, but never had he cried like this. He hadn't known he had so many tears to give. He was vaguely aware of someone hugging him, and he felt as he was led somewhere, then he clung to the familiar arms that wrapped around him.

"I will not let the two of you do this. Mister Potter, Mister Weasley needs you. He needs you to help him. I want you to help him. We will all be here to help you, Harry, but you have to meet us halfway. Now I am going to leave the two of you to talk, and I want you to talk -- the both of you!"

After Professor McGonagall left, nothing was said for the longest time, in fact, the two Gryffindors didn't move much at all, hugging each other as if they were afraid of losing the other again…and they were.

It was Ron who pulled away first, and he didn't try to hide his tears, although he was finding that it wasn't so easy talking and crying at the same time. He wiped his eyes and blew his nose when Harry handed him a tissue. "Thanks. You're such a git, Harry. You were supposed to tell me I couldn't go, that you needed me. Did you really think I wanted to leave you?"

Harry shook his head as he wiped the tears from Ron's face. "You're a damned Gryffindor. I knew what you were doing, but I also knew you'd be better off without me."

There was no rational reply to the irrational statement. "I doubt being dead would make me better off." Now who was being irrational? But Ron knew it was the truth.

Harry sat on the bed and picked up Snape's Order of Merlin as he looked at Ron. Sighing, he held it out for Ron to take. "There's something I need to tell you."

Ron reached out and took the award, looking at Harry oddly, wondering why he was now holding the medal. He turned it over and read the inscription, then threw it down on the bed. "You and Snape -- you were together." Not a question.

Smart one, Ron was. "I don't know." Harry shrugged his shoulders. "I don't think we were, but I've been having dreams about Snape and me, and they seem so real. But he was near death when he returned. Maybe we were together during the summer; Madam Pomfrey says my memory from that time might never return. But wouldn't I know if Snape and I were together?"

"I don't even remember everything about the days leading up to the explosion, so yeah, if you and Snape were together, I can understand how you might not remember it, but It's okay if you and he did something. It's not like you and me were together then. You could do worse, I suppose." This was not the easiest conversation Ron had ever had with Harry.

Harry grinned; it had been far too long since he had done so. "I want to know. I don't see how he and I could have done anything, but what if we did?"

Ron sat beside Harry. "Yes, I expect you would want to know. Is this what has had you so worried over the last few days?"

More like weeks. "Yeah."

"Why? It doesn't matter. I don't care. And if you and he buggered, then at least he died having experienced you." Yeah, probably not the best choice of words Ron had ever used. "Well, you are good, and he probably never got any." When Harry glared, Ron rolled his eyes. "Okay, I give up."

"Good." Harry wrapped his arms around Ron. "You really don't care if Snape and I -- you know -- did it?"

"Do I mind that Snape and you fucked? Hell, Harry. Do you mind that Lavender and I fucked? Do you mind that Hermione and I fucked?"

"'Course not."

"And neither do I. So we have both fucked other people. Who cares?"

"I do. Thinking that Snape and I did something, but I can't remember it that's-- that's not good. I wish there was a way for me to know for sure if anything happened."

"Yeah, me too. I rather liked the idea of being the first one to shove my cock up your arse."

Harry smirked. "Look at it this way. Now you and Snape share something in common." Harry laughed.

"Shut up, I don't want to think about sharing you with anyone, much less him." Ron laughed. ""S okay if you and he fucked, but I would rather not think about it."

Harry kissed Ron and pulled the broad body down on top of him as he fell back onto the bed. "Make love to me?"

And this was their life. One minute they seemed at the edge of destruction, ready to give up on their happiness, then the next it was as if everything was fine. They both knew their lives were anything but fine, but they lived in the moment as much as they could. They had the rest of their lives to deal with everything…or tomorrow.

It hadn't been more than an hour since Ron had almost lost Harry, and it would have served him right to lose him. Nevertheless, he was glad all the same that McGonagall knew what they both needed more than they did. Without saying anything, he found his wand, waved it, and he and Harry were naked. Instead of preparing Harry, Ron lay down beside him and spooned him, their calves and feet hanging off the bed. Ron rubbed himself against Harry and snuggled the warm neck in front of him. "You feel warm."

"Mm, yeah, I am." Harry was making all sorts of noises as his neck was licked, nipped, and sucked. "I don't want to lose you, Ron."

"You don't have to worry about that. I won't be doing anything as stupid as trying to leave you again." Ron lifted himself and began running his hands through Harry's hair.

"Good." Harry then turned so he was facing Ron, and kissed him. Then he was grinding himself against Ron, moaning as his cock rubbed against it's partner. Soon he was on his back, Ron pressing him into the mattress, the bed creaking under their ever-increasing movements. Wrapping his legs around Ron's back, Harry wanted to increase the friction. "Harder." Then Harry was kissing those lips again and was squirming and running his hands over Ron's back, sure that he was leaving nail marks.

Ron obliged Harry and was awarded by short screams. His hands were currently cupping Harry's face as he kissed him, and it was this that seemed to be the undoing of both of them. They loved to kiss and did it often, but sometimes, and this was one of those, it was as if they were kissing each other's very souls.

When they came down from their orgasms, Ron rolled off Harry and after rolling Harry to his side, spooned him. Normally they would continue, but Ron knew Harry was exhausted. "Sleep."

All Harry could do was nod. He smiled as his fringe was moved from his face, and sighed as Ron kissed him on his neck. That was the last thing he remembered before sleep claimed him.

When they were both awake a few hours later, after another round of love-making, Harry sat up and faced Ron. His face turning red, he open and closed his mouth a few times before speaking. "You said a few weeks ago that you wanted to know what it was like to be making love to me as someone else. Do you still want to know?"

Merlin's beard. This could not be Harry Potter, could it? Ron raised an eybrow. "Wh-Snape -- you want me to be Snape, do you?"

Harry shook his head. "No, I don't want to think about being with him or anyone else, but maybe if I can imagine making love to him, I will be able to remember what happened."

Ron thought on it for all of a few seconds. "I won't do it. You want to do this to punish yourself, and I won't let you. If you really want me to be him because you wanted to be with Snape, then I'd do it because I love you. I will not help you to feel worse about yourself, however. You can't ask me to."

"Please?"

Bugger. Hadn't he said he would help Harry? "I can't do it." Hadn't he said he wasn't going to do anything stupid that would cause him and Harry to not be together? Of course he had, and that is why he was doing this. "No."

~*~

Flying had always been instant therapy, and Harry loved the feel of flying into the wind, his hair whipping back, the cool breeze pushing against his face. Looking back over his shoulder, he watched as Ron approached him, and took off the other direction. After half an hour of this, they both landed.

Thanks for flying with me, Ron. I needed that."

"Yeah, me too. We should go have a shower; Lavender, Dean, and Seamus will be here in a few hours."

"Mm yeah, we should shower; this might be our final shower alone. I think we need to make the best of it." Harry felt his cock stir.

It didn't take long until they were standing underneath the tap, water spraying over their bodies, Harry pushed up against the wall, his arse being fucked over and over again, his cock pulsing each time it rammed into the shower wall.

Ron began kissing Harry, leaving love-bites all over his neck. He was going to miss this -- him and Harry being able to do this in the shower. But for now they could, and he did. He soon had Harry screaming and coating the wall in front of them, and then he watched as Harry ran a finger through the creamy mixture, writing words in it. Ron wasn't sure, but he thought one of them said, _Ron's_. He smiled. He was definitely Harry's.

~*~

"How are they going to get here?" Ron was more than a bit apprehensive about seeing his fellow housemates. He was happy they were returning, but he couldn't help but think this was the end of something. He was beginning to get better, but would it be too much for him to see Lavender struggling to walk, and would it be too much to see Seamus and Dean who had not been on the Hogwarts Express that day? They hadn't been hurt, and they still had their families. Ron was scared.

"The students will be Portkeying here tomorrow. I asked Lavender, Seamus, and Dean to arrive today because I wanted the five of you to be able to visit without anyone else."

Ron nodded. "What do I say to her?"

"To Miss Brown? You say what you would say to anyone, Ron. She has difficulty walking, and there was damage to her internally that will never heal, but she is the same young lady whom she was last year."

Ron wouldn't say anything, but he knew Lavender was not the same. How could she be? Ron looked towards the door when it opened, and smiled as Harry entered.

"Where have you been, Mister Potter?"

"Trying to put the past in the past."

"What does that mean?" Ron asked.

"It's not important, not really. We'll talk about it later."

There was a knock, and after Professor McGonagall opened the door with her wand, in walked Seamus and Dean on either side of Lavender, helping her walk.

Ron couldn't tear his gaze from her. He heard McGonagall speaking, and he saw each of the others' mouths moving, but he had no clue what was being said. She was beautiful. No, she wasn't the same -- that was obvious. She was now sitting, a pained look on her face, and Ron noticed how attentive Seamus and Dean were with her, as if they were anticipating her every move. No, she wasn't the same, but she was alive. She was beautiful. He turned his head when he felt his hand being squeezed. Harry understood. He would always understand.

"I love you," whispered Harry. He could see how difficult this was for Ron, and he knew it would take a while for Ron to accept what he was now facing. "It's okay; she's okay."

"Ron?"

Ron turned towards Lavender. "Hi, Lavender." He wished he didn't sound so weak.

Harry had let go of Ron's hand when Lavender had turned towards them, but then he reclaimed it when he saw Ron's face pale.

"I'm sorry about your family."

Ron nodded.

~*~

Later that evening the five Gryffindors' sat in the common room talking…well it was mostly Seamus and Dean doing the speaking, but it was good for them all to be together. It was somewhat awkward because while Seamus and Dean were willing to keep up the conversation, Harry and Ron knew they were afraid to talk about what had happened. There were a few questionable looks from Dean, Seamus, and Lavender towards Harry and Ron, but nothing was asked or said. This -- the talking and being around other students -- it would get easier; it had to get easier.

"I think I want to go up to my room. Madam Pomfrey is going to come help me get ready for bed, but if two of you don't mind helping me upstairs, I'd be most appreciative."

Ron surprised himself when he spoke. He smiled at Lavender. "Harry and me, we'll help you."

"I'd like that. My mum is going to be here tomorrow, and she will be staying here with me so she can help me get around."

Harry and Ron stood on either side of Lavender and helped her stand, both realising this was not something students such as themselves faced often. It wasn't everyday that a fellow classmate was injured this badly, and it wasn't everyday that over half of your school-mates would not ever return because they were dead. Dead -- that was supposed to refer to people who were older, and people who were sick. It wasn't supposed to refer to young and healthy students. Only…it did.

Several minutes later when they had Lavender sitting on her bed, Harry and Ron sat beside her.

"So I see the two of you are together?"

Both Harry and Ron nodded, not quite facing Lavender.

"The two of you look like little boys who have just been found doing something wrong. It's rather adorable, I must say. I'm happy for you, both of you."

Ron looked up and smiled. "You're really okay with us?"

"Yeah, Ron. Who wouldn't? The two of you were made for each other."

"Thanks, Lavender." Ron needed to leave. He needed to leave now. This was too much.

"Harry?"

Harry turned when he heard Lavender speaking to him, and he watched her head as it motioned towards Ron. He stood up. "I've got to go to the loo." He squeezed Ron's hand and left the room. Harry had lied, and he felt guilty for leaving Ron in there, but Lavender needed to talk to Ron, and Harry knew it would be good for him. He sat down by the door to wait.

Fifteen minutes later, an ashen-faced Ron walked out and sat down beside Harry, leant his head onto Harry's shoulder, and began speaking in an almost whisper as he closed his eyes. "Lavender says you and I have a responsibility -- she said we have to be happy. She told me how happy she is. Harry, she can hardly walk, and I could see the pain in her face as she moved, but she said she was so happy to be alive. She told me how she had begged the healers to let her die, how she had screamed as they tried to help her. Then she told me about the other students who never screamed. She told me how she was sure some of them had wanted to live. She then looked at me and said we were here for a reason, and it was up to us to be happy. I want to be happy, Harry. I want both of us to be happy."

Harry wrapped his arms around Ron. "Me too."

They sat there not moving until Madam Pomfrey shook Harry's shoulder.

"Off to bed with the both of you."

They returned to the common room and visited with Seamus and Dean, but it wasn't long before all four boys were yawning; it had been a long day.

Ron lay in bed later that night, Harry holding him. He felt safe.

"I went to see Snape today," Harry half-whispered and half spoke as he ran his fingers through Ron's hair. "I took his Order of Merlin and buried it in front of his headstone. It was the right thing to do. It's his, not mine. And I'm yours, not his."

The End!

So...that is it! I have had so much fun writing IDWTBS. It began as a sweet fluffy one-shot and quickly turned into an angst-filled fic with plenty of sex, which was oh so fun to write! I am pleased with how it turned out, and I hope everyone reading it enjoyed it. Some rather difficult subjects were touched on in this fic, and it is my hope that what I wrote did justice to these difficult situations some of us face in our lives. Thanks so much to everyone who has read and left such wonderful feedback -- having been in the Snarry end of fandom for the last four and a half years, I didn't know what to expect when I wrote Harry/Ron. All of you have made me feel so welcome, and I feel like I've found another fun and supportive place to have fun with writing fan fic. Thanks again for reading! Sev1970

 

 


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